


Harbor

by SilentNorth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, brief OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentNorth/pseuds/SilentNorth
Summary: Akaashi had never quite been able to describe his feelings for Bokuto, he didn't have to, but now that he was gone, it was undeniable that something was missing. Now that he was gone, it was just hard to get the timing of it right. The future was pulling them in too many different directions.Maybe it was easier to accept the change and move on.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 93
Kudos: 329





	1. The safety of shoreline fading away

The gym was quiet, which wasn’t unusual really. Practice was over for the day and it was getting dark outside with the sun setting earlier and earlier. The gym had been quieter the past few months but not for lack of trying. After all, put any number of high school boys together and you’re basically guaranteed some level of rowdiness.

Akaashi had always felt some semblance of responsibility for them—mostly because he had the responsibility of taking care of the rowdiest owl of the lot, the ace—it was something that came naturally the more he played as setter. He was already paying close attention to his teammates, how well they were doing, whether or not they were tired, or if they were having a particularly good match and could hit more sets sent their way.

When he was told at the end of his second year that he was to be captain, of course he was nervous. He was nothing like their previous captain—could never be like their previous captain—but after the first week of stepping into his new role, he found it wasn’t so much different than taking care of their ace for two years. No one needed that much attention anymore, but also, nobody quite rose to those same standards.

They were a completely different team now. Not bad—Fukurodani had numerous of talented underclassmen to step up after their third years left—that was to be expected, but it was nowhere close to the team they’d been before.

Just different.

Akaashi sighed against the emptiness of the gym. One difference being that no one felt the need to stay behind and practice.

That wasn’t fair. Plenty came early or on weekends to work on their serves or cross shots. Akaashi joined them. They were still a well-rounded team of hard workers.

They would be fine in the upcoming season.

Eventually, he stopped to clean up. He could only set the ball so many times without someone waiting to run after it and slam it down on the other side.

Of course it felt like a piece was missing. Their entire starting lineup had changed. The way he set the ball had been completely altered. The way he thought and approached a match was different, too.

Konoha had been back a few weeks into the new school year to see the team, to pat Akaashi on the back, and to wish him luck. Sarkui and Komi came, too. Even Washio. They all said the same thing in different words, watched silently for a bit at the end of practice, and then offered the whole team some encouraging words and made unlikely promises that they’d try to make some of their tournament matches.

The empty words weren’t what made Akaashi feel as though something was missing. At least they were there saying them.

_You’ll be the best captain yet, you know?_

Akaashi remembered those words after graduation, when all the cursed trees were pink with blooms and it made Akaashi roll his eyes at how cliché it all felt.

But Akaashi had still waited for him after the ceremony.

 _I mean, you stood by my side the whole time_ I _was captain, so you learned from the best!_

Then, there was that bright smile of his that caused such a pressure to build up in Akaashi’s chest. It really wasn’t fair. The way he held up his diploma case against his shoulder and smiled the way he always had—that diploma being a looming shadow that things were different now.

_And I’ll come back to visit! That, you can totally count on._

Well, at one point he’d been there to make empty promises, only Akaashi had foolishly believed them to be real at the time. Maybe he’d let those damn cherry blossoms get to him after all.

As weeks turned into a month, then two, and by then, the former third years had all made their return, it all played out expectedly, the logical part of Akaashi’s mind reasoned out. Because Bokuto had left them for the National Japan team, truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. He was probably traveling and training all hours of the day, playing with other star players and squeezing in college credits where he could.

Akaashi knew this because that had been the plan before he’d said goodbye. Though truth be told, he’d never actually said goodbye. Because Bokuto was optimistic. Because Bokuto was naïve enough to think Tokyo and Fukurodani would always be his home.

Or maybe it was Akaashi’s fault. That he had missed a call or had forgotten to meet Bokuto somewhere important right before he was supposed to leave.

Everything was so busy then, but Akaashi had gotten to see him after graduation. And then he was gone.

And he hadn’t heard from him since.

All of this—this gym, this campus, the team, even Akaashi—they were part of Bokuto’s past now. Maybe he’d be featured in some sports magazine one day and talk about the simpler days of high school volleyball before he went on to talk about his most recent win.

He was just full of sighs today, Akaashi thought as he locked up the gym.

* * *

They ended up losing the tournament.

Akaashi wasn’t too torn up about it. There were sniffles and tears in the locker room and on the bus ride home, but what did they expect? Their ace injured his ankle in the quarterfinal match in the third set and already the odds weren’t looking good.

Back home, in their gym, it was Akaashi’s responsibility to make sure his team didn’t lose heart. And while most of the tears had dried, he had treated worse cases and during a match to boot.

He held the final match’s stats on a clipboard as he stood in front of them. Their coaches hung back, already having spoken after the semifinals.

“I don’t have any regrets with how we played today,” Akaashi said, “but I think there are definitely some aspects we can improve upon. The accuracy of our jump serves has been better in practice and serves in general lost us a few points. Receives were so-so, and I thought we had a lot of success with the intent behind our spikes.”

Months ago, he would’ve found all their eyes glued to him odd and unnerving, but maybe he was able to grow into a captain they could depend on after all.

Maybe he’d believe it better if they had won today.

“The best thing for us to do is get back to practice tomorrow and work on improving. The spring tournament isn’t as far away as you think, but it will give Sato time to recover.”

A hand shot up, causing Akaashi’s eyebrows to raise minutely. He couldn’t remember that happening before unless it was with the coach.

“Anahori,” he said, not letting his momentary surprise betray him in his voice.

Anahori’s hand fell back into his lap. “Will you be going to the spring tournament with us, Captain?”

Akaashi blinked. “Of course,” he said, losing his captain voice for the moment and the relief that settled on the faces in front of him mirrored his own. Even Anahori looked glad, though he was a second year setter who spent most of his time on the bench. Akaashi always thought Anahori resented him at least a little.

In Fukurodani’s history, third years typically stuck around through the spring tournament, especially those who started. Akaashi could never think of walking away from his team.

He cleared his throat. “That’s all for tonight. We can go over exact stats next week and Coach has the game footage. Ask him if you want a copy made.” He stepped back as the team rose and gathered their things.

Their coach joined him to take back the clipboard and to hand Akaashi his own CD copy of the game.

“Good work today, Captain,” Coach said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to lock up.”

“Yes, sir,” Akaashi said distantly as he stared down at the CD case in his hands, their opponent and the scores of all three sets written on it in black marker.

They could’ve done better. _He_ could’ve done better. Hindsight always made him think that way. Maybe he’d set some balls before he went home for the night, no matter how his body dragged after the long day, both physically and emotionally exhausted.

“Man, Akaashi, that speech sure was something.”

His entire body frozen. Then, slowly, Akaashi turned toward the gym doors, volleyball squeezed between the palms of his hands.

“And here I was thinking you might not’ve surpassed your old captain.”

“Bokuto-san.”

A sheepish grin passed over Bokuto’s face as he rubbed the back of his neck, stepping no further than the doorway.

Akaashi couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned over Fukurodani’s former ace. Even though it’d been months now, Bokuto hardly looked any different He still spiked his hair the same way, still carried the same confidence on his shoulders. No matter which way his mood swung, that confidence was always there. Akaashi could recognize it no matter how many times Bokuto shut down. Then, he knew how to draw it back out to the surface.

If anything, Bokuto seemed to take up even more space, something Akaashi had thought to be impossible.

“I meant to make it to the match today,” Bokuto said, reaching up to pull at his hair, frustration scrunching up his face. “But something came up. I didn’t even know if I’d catch you guys before you went home.”

Akaashi stepped over, closing the distance ever so slightly between them. “Well,” he started slowly, still unsure if this was his mind playing tricks on him after such a long day, “You’ve already missed everyone else.”

“But,” Bokuto piped up, equally slow at first. “You’re still here.”

The words made Akaashi stand a little straighter, turning his ears pink under his hair.

“I am.”

Managing to tear his eyes off of Bokuto, he glanced around at the empty gym. He wondered if it felt smaller to Bokuto the same way that it seemed to Akaashi that he had outgrown it.

“It’s been a while.”

Bokuto’s face pinched again and then both hands were pulling at his hair. “I know. I know! I told you I’d come back and I didn’t.” His fists move to cover his eyes. “Ugh, and now you’re doing that smile—you know—the one you make when I screw up, but you don’t want me to know.”

Akaashi’s small smile broke into a laugh that he hid behind the volleyball. “No, it’s not, Bokuto-san.” He brought the ball back down and hugged it to his stomach. “I’m just glad you’re here is all. Welcome back.”

His face broke into a brilliant grin that gripped Akaashi’s heart, reminding him that though things might’ve seemed normal right then, that it was only a passing moment. That moments like those weren’t something he could take for granted anymore.

And so maybe that smile caught him off guard because of that. Something that used to come so easily day after day, and he’d almost forgotten it.

And that smile made him sad, so maybe his own drooped just a hair.

“Thanks, Akaashi!”

And instead of offering to toss for him a little while longer—those words another thing he’d nearly forgotten—Akaashi sat against the wall while Bokuto sat down on the steps, facing out into the chilly autumn night as he told Akaashi about his new team and his new setter and his new life and everything seemed so far away, so different to the life Akaashi had. The same life that Bokuto had once walked beside him on.

* * *

Bokuto’s team was on television for the first time late December. Akaashi spent all Saturday watching the National Japan team play five sets and come out with a win.

He recognized a few players like Ushijima on the court, still a powerhouse as ever. And after the match, the television crew did a few interviews, but they were only with the coach and a player Akaashi didn’t know beyond a column in a sports magazine.

But still, he waited.

He waited through the interviews, hoping to catch just a glimpse of him.

He had only caught sight of him on the court during one set where he was hardly any more than a speck, a flash of wild hair, and every player slammed the ball down with so much force that Akaashi wondered if he even knew what Bokuto’s spikes looked like anymore. Or were they completely different than how he’d looked playing in high school?

Akaashi himself wasn’t the same player he was a year ago. To someone like Bokuto, maybe his sets looked completely different as well. Maybe, if Bokuto saw him playing on TV as well, he would hardly recognize him.

His heart ached a little at that. At how everything had changed. At how his phone didn’t buzz though Bokuto had said back when he last visited that they should keep in touch better.

He cursed time moving forward seemingly without a care. He cursed that it was making him and Bokuto into different people and leaving only one of them to bear witness.

Because Akaashi was sure he was the only one watching Bokuto from afar and assessing the damage that time dealt and how he didn’t have a choice but to bend to its will and move along with it.

Before he realized, the post-game interviews were over and the commercials were teasing some soap opera that was airing next.

“Keiji!”

He turned his head to his door where his mother’s voice was calling up to him.

“Yuichi-kun is here,” she called down the hallway. “The team’s going for a run.”

He glanced once more at his screen, as if the gym would reappear with a familiar face stepping up to claim his rightful interview slot.

_Hey, hey, hey!_

“Tell them I’ll be right down,” he called back and got up from his desk.

Time demanded he move forward, too.

* * *

Somehow, Akaashi couldn't say exactly when it happened or how, Bokuto faded from the forefront of his mind. Instead, school and volleyball overtook almost every minute of every day. If he wasn't planning for the Tokyo qualifiers or the spring tournament or at practices, then he was cramming for a test and making outlines for end of the year exams.

One thing bled into another and, suddenly, they were lining up to board the bus for the Spring Inter-High tournament. They had been playing well leading up to it, even winning the lead qualifier spot, though they hadn’t played Nekoma yet. Akaashi was optimistic. From practices to practice matches with other teams in the Tokyo area, Fukurodani was looking strong.

He tried not to compare to last year. Whenever he did, he had to remind himself that it was different, not better, just different.

And different didn't mean bad.

They were going to play well, no problem. He was sure of it and he found that captaining wasn't so bad anymore. If anything, he felt confident in leading his teammates, despite their loss in the fall, and confident enough to know that they had his back.

Like in previous years, they made it through the first day without too much trouble. It had made Akaashi's blood pump to see how seamlessly they all flowed together. After all, it wasn't that they were just good. They had been the national champs last year.

Even though it had always felt like something was missing since last year ended, sometimes it took effort in remembering that Fukurodani was a good team. Their school recruited good players. Just because nearly all of their starters were gone, just because they had some bad luck in the fall didn't mean they couldn't go above and beyond at nationals again.

And Akaashi fully expected them to do just as well.

He couldn't call himself a dependable captain if he didn't have high expectations to encourage his team on.

When he got home, Akaashi expected to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow would be an even tougher set of matches and he needed to be rested and ready for them.

But, just as he turned off his lights and got into bed, his phone lit up from where it sat on his desk, illuminating the room briefly before it darkened once more.

For a second, he was sure it was someone from the team group messaging everyone something upbeat for tomorrow, but when another message didn't appear right away, Akaashi figured it couldn't be a group chat. So, he crossed the room to check.

It flashed bright in his face when he opened his phone.

_As expected of Fukurodani's captain!_

Akaashi stared down at Bokuto's message, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Then, another came in, causing the phone to buzz in his hand.

_Good luck tomorrow! Wish I could be there :( But I'll be cheering for you!_

Akaashi's heart squeezed in his chest. Bokuto had gone out of his way to see how the team was doing. That was more than Akaashi had heard from him since October and he wondered if maybe Bokuto was having a hard time knowing what to say just like Akaashi was. The way his mind went blank whenever he opened a new message, words failing him.

And now that there was something to be said, there was Bokuto saying it. He wasn't a constant noise like how he used to be, but he did keep on popping back up again, just when Akaashi had thought he'd moved on from them for good.

_We'll do our best, Bokuto-san._

It was supposed to be just like last year. It didn't make any sense because they were just as good. Akaashi couldn't stop asking himself, if he had been such a good captain as everyone kept saying, then why couldn't he lead a team of equal talent all the way to the championship?

They lost in the quarterfinals—not even close—and to Nekoma of all teams.

"Paying you back for last year," Kenma had said before the game even started.

Of course, Nekoma kept more starters than Fukurodani had, and they had more star first years than Fukurodani. Logically, it made sense. Akaashi had known they were a team to watch out for going into the tournament, but he’d been so sure that Fukurodani had been the better team. There hadn't been a doubt in his mind.

So then, why couldn't things be better in _his_ absence? Hadn't Akaashi spent all year working to fill that gap, the hole that _he_ had left behind after graduation? Akaashi had thought so anyway. But no, instead, things couldn't even be just as good without Bokuto. How had he thought they could be better? Why did he think he could take the team even further as captain?

The team cried, their disappointment so palpable that it sat on Akaashi's shoulders as he held his head up for all their sakes.

They shook hands with Nekoma. They thanked their fans. They listened to their coach talk.

And still, Akaashi held it in, being the good stoic captain that he was. He held it in while their coach gave them his "I'm proud of how far you all have come" speech. The "There's nothing to be disappointed about" speech. He held it in as they packed. He held it in as they loaded the bus and he held it in all during the drive home, sitting on his own and staring out the window as he pretended not to hear the sniffles and low murmured conversations coming from the seats behind him.

In fact, Akaashi made it all the way home with only a few words to his teammates along with a brief talk at the end, as was expected of him. But his heart drowned in the disappointment and longing, in the deep chasm that opened up in the wake of things ending.

Because he could not keep promises of championships, of going even further, of being a better, stronger team.

Because he could not play volleyball on the same court as them again.

His season was finished.

He didn't realize that he had been sitting on his bed, staring blankly at the opposite wall in the dark until his phone buzzed, unknowingly still clamped between his hands. He didn't want any pity messages from his teammates, but when it kept vibrating, Akaashi looked down. It wasn't a message. It was a call.

"Hey, hey, hey!" was called over the line before he could even get out a hello.

"Bokuto-san."

"Akaashi! You're still up! I wasn't sure if it'd be too late to call, but I was just about to go to bed when I thought, you know what? I should try giving Akaashi a call. Even if it wakes him up, I think he might be okay with that."

Against his will and against everything that he was feeling, his lips quirk into a small smile against the receiver. "You didn't wake me up," he said. "And I _am_ okay that you called."

It was quiet for a moment, which was uncharacteristic of Bokuto no matter the late hour. Akaashi shuffled in his seat on his bed, rubbing the heel of his hand against his dry eyes.

"I saw some of the match, you know," Bokuto finally said, his voice not carrying the same energy as his greeting.

"Oh," was all Akaashi could murmur in reply.

"Yeah, I was watching it on my phone during our breaks at practice."

Akaashi shook his head. "Don't get yourself in trouble, Bokuto-san."

"I wish I could've been there, you know?"

"That probably would've made it worse," Akaashi said without thinking. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he covered his face with his free hand. "I didn’t mean that the way it came out."

Bokuto paused again. "How did you mean it?"

Letting a loud sigh leave his nose, he shrugged, even though Bokuto couldn't see it. "I wanted to be as good a captain as you were. We could've won nationals again, and I let the team down. If I was a better leader—or if I had let Anahori sub me out when I was tired—I know I overused Sato in the fourth set. He was so tired, but he kept calling for the ball."

"Akaashi," Bokuto said gently.

And though his voice had held steady, Akaashi felt the dampness on his cheeks. He wiped at them furiously with the back of his hand.

"It's fine." His voice was a bit rougher. "Thank you for calling, but the team is fine. They'll have a lot of strong players and I know they'll do even better next year. Anahori is a great setter, Onaga’s an even better blocker than last year and Sato doesn't quite live up to the ace you were, but he's steady. The team's only losing me. They're going to be really good next year."

"That's good," Bokuto said, and Akaashi let out a shaky breath. He couldn't tell if Bokuto could hear it. "But I'm calling about you."

His breath caught in his throat, and there was no doubt Bokuto could hear it that time.

"I'm fine. I'm—” he nearly choked on the words. _My time is over here_ — “I'm not ready to say goodbye."

And then he was hiccupping little breaths into the phone that paired with the fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. He clutched the phone to his face like a lifesaver, not caring how the telltale sounds of his volleyball career ending traveled all the way to wherever Bokuto was.

And Bokuto just sat quietly on the other side, letting him breathe.

Akaashi couldn’t help but wonder pathetically what Bokuto must think of him. Even when his volleyball season ended with Fukurodani, with not future plans set in stone right away, Akaashi had never seen him even slightly defected.

"How did you do it?" Akaashi finally asked after catching his breath. "How did you walk away from Fukurodani and everything you had here so easily?"

Bokuto hummed at the question. "It wasn't easy, silly," he said. "Besides, you're already halfway there. To start, you tell yourself how much better the team will be next year. And then you tell yourself you'll come back and visit loads, even if that ends up not happening." His voice dropped out. "And then, you've been gone so long and you've gotten used to all the new things that it just feels normal again."

_Like how it started feeling normal again without you?_

That was, until he would show up again out of nowhere, right when Akaashi needed him.

"But I'm glad this hasn't changed," Bokuto continued.

“What hasn’t changed?”

“This!” Bokuto exclaimed into the phone. “Talking with you like this.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, like, I'm sorry it's been a while, but I'm glad I can just pick up the phone and we can talk like we used to. Without really worrying how long it's been."

And then he had to go and say something like that and there went any semblance of normalcy Akaashi had built in his absence.

“We’ll always talk like this,” Akaashi assured him. “No matter how long, I promise.”

* * *

Graduation came far too quickly after that despite how the days seem to lag. The team still practiced, but year-end exams kept Akaashi from attending very many. Even when he did, it was hard to feel as though he belonged anymore. He didn't know whether to step aside into the background or play as he always had.

Eventually, it was easier just not to go.

Things had to be handed off to the next captain, the next team, which would hardly appear any different except that he wouldn't be part of it.

But when graduation came, it was suddenly hard to grasp that high school was over. That time in his life had ended. Instead of the way everything had been ending for months now, it had finally come to a full halt.

Exams dates were replaced with university expectations, and Akaashi tried to keep track of everything as it all blew by so quickly.

And then, he was standing outside with his diploma in hand beneath the clear blue sky. It was nearly the same as it had been a year ago. Pink blossoms filled the air like they did every spring, and his teammates swarmed around him to offer their congratulations and promises of taking him out to eat.

"What's your favorite, Akaashi-san?" Anahori asked, an arm looped around his shoulders. "We can get whatever you want. Us second years are buying."

"For everyone?" Sato asked, blinking in realization. "Or just the captain?"

Anahori backpedaled quickly, pursing his lips as he did a headcount.

"Plus, Akaashi-san always ate the most of everyone else whenever Coach took us out," Onaga added, causing the entire team to laugh.

Because he was so close, Akaashi felt Anahori's head turn as the laughter turned into jostling.

“Hey, is that," Anahori started. When Akaashi look at him, the second year setter was squinting against the sun. Then, his hand shot up, nearly knocking Akaashi in the face. "Hey! Bokuto-san!"

Akaashi turned, the sun catching his eyes as well.

"Hey, hey!"

Before Akaashi could even spot him in the crowd, Bokuto was already joining the mix.

"Akaashi! Congratulations!" was called into his ear, and suddenly Anahori's arm was replaced by Bokuto's. It was bigger and stronger and wrapped around his shoulders all snug.

Akaashi smile at him out of the corner of his eye, turning his head would put their faces far too close together. "What a surprise, Bokuto-san," he said. "I thought you were still traveling with the team."

"Well," Bokuto dragged out, "technically they're still traveling, but our match was two days ago. I decided to come back early."

Akaashi could feel his face warming red as Bokuto admitted this out loud to him and the rest of the team. Hopefully, he could blame it on the bright spring sun and not on his reaction to Bokuto showing up.

"We were just about to go out to eat," Onaga said.

"Are you coming, too, Bokuto-san?" Anahori added.

"Of course!" Bokuto replied in his loud manner. "As long as Akaashi doesn't mind."

Akaashi snorted softly. "Why would I mind?" he asked lowly before turning his eyes on the rest of the team. "Let's go. I'm starving."

After everyone was fed, the team dispersed pretty quickly, giving their last congratulations to Akaashi and promising to play some practice games before he left for university. Despite know that it wouldn't happen, Akaashi smile and made similar promises.

The third years said the same things a year ago and Akaashi hadn't seen them once between their graduation and when they returned to visit at the start of the year.

It was just an endless cycle of fooling themselves that things wouldn't change, not really. The ignorance made the separation easier, just like Bokuto had said. Trick yourself into believing things weren’t changing as fast and then, suddenly, life felt normal again.

As the sky was turning gold with twilight and darkening in the east, only he and Bokuto were left standing outside the restaurant. They were in the way of the people passing them along the sidewalk, but Akaashi couldn't think of where to move. If he took a step forward, Bokuto might start off in the opposite direction.

"So," Akaashi started, "what're you going to now with your team abroad?"

Bokuto tucked his hands into his pockets. "Well, we don't have practice again until next week, so—I dunno—I'll stick around here I guess until then."

"Oh," Akaashi said, causing Bokuto to laugh.

"Yeah, I haven't spent much time with my parents lately. I bet they'll be glad I'm back for a bit."

Akaashi smiled at him. "They're not the only ones," he said. 

Bokuto whipped a beaming smile his way. "Me too! It's been awhile since we've seen each other."

Glancing away, Akaashi fiddled with his fingers in front of him. "You know, you might get rusty laying around at home. I'm not a replacement for your current setter, but if you want to—I still have the key for the gym."

Almost immediately, hands were tight on his shoulders, turning and pulling him in until those wide owl-like eyes were only inches from his own.

“Really, Akaashi!”

Again, his face felt warm, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the last rays of the sinking sun or not.

Then, he was pushed backward as Bokuto pulled away, hands still on Akaashi’s shoulders.

“We should go right now!” he said, his voice too loud with his excitement. “It’ll be awesome! Just like old times, you and me!”

Akaashi stepped back and, after a split-second of hesitation, Bokuto’s hands let him go.

“It’ll be getting dark soon, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said. “And we’ve both eaten too much for today. You’ll just make yourself sick.”

“Then, tomorrow.” The one thing that hadn’t left Akaashi were those eyes. They bore into him with such intensity, and if he stared too closely, they drowned out everything else in the fading light.

“Sure,” Akaashi said easily enough, like those eyes weren’t slowly tearing him apart. “Go visit with your parents. You can text me tomorrow if you’re still up for some practicing.”

“Oh, you can count on me, Akaashi,” Bokuto said.

Somehow, they had started walking toward the train station without Akaashi even realizing it.

“There’s no way I’d pass up an opportunity to play with you again,” Bokuto said.

They got in a short half hour practice in the following afternoon. The school was vacant post graduation. Even the teachers and other faculty members were off the hook. Akaashi was glad. The last thing he wanted was for someone to catch them in the gym and start raising questions of whether or not they had permission.

Bokuto didn’t harbor the same anxieties. He ran about the gym, gradually helping Akaashi set up the net, but he was more intent on taking in his alma mater.

It made sense. Akaashi recalled the last time he was there—last October—and he hadn’t even stepped a foot inside.

Akaashi never thought of why that was and he didn’t then. It made him smile to see Bokuto pleased. He didn’t make any unnecessary comments like the gym was smaller than he remembered and he didn’t try to draw any unfair comparisons between the National Japan team and his old Fukurodani one.

Who they were on either side of the fence didn’t matter. Right then, it was just two guys tossing the ball around on a Saturday.

And boy did they look like amateurs the first few sets.

Either Akaashi was too used to Sato’s slower approach, the way he hesitated before he jumped, or Bokuto had completely changed as a volleyball player. The familiar link was gone and Akaashi found he had to work to sync back up with him.

There was something faster and more confident—more self-aware—in Bokuto approach. The power behind his jumps was even more than Akaashi remembered. Not only that, but he was jumping higher. One of Akaashi’s first sets nearly smacked him in the face.

Then, once they got some semblance of rhythm together, there was the strength behind his spikes. It didn’t matter if it was a cross or line shot—both of which he seemed to be hitting with clear intent—the sound of the ball striking the other side of the net reverberated around them. It was louder than any of the spikes on Fukurodani—even Sato’s on his best days—and Akaashi was still lacking in finding a suitable comparison to the national stage. Perhaps Ushijima, but then again, the two were playing with each other now, sweating through practices Akaashi couldn’t even imagine, communicating ways to improve, and then implementing their growth in games.

It had only been a year, but Bokuto was nowhere near the same player.

Akaashi was the one who needed a break thirty minutes in, dripping far too much sweat for what was supposed to be such a simple practice. He hadn’t thought that the absence of volleyball in his life the past few months would leave such an impact, yet there he was, panting while Bokuto was on an entirely different level.

He didn’t even appear out of breath, but he joined Akaashi for water in the open doorway.

“Thanks for this. It helped a lot,” he said, and Akaashi could only stare at him. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to practice at all while I was back. Coach gave me some game footage to go over, but man, I’d probably go crazy locked inside all day like that.”

“Of course, though I’m pretty out of practice,” Akaashi admitted, capping his water bottle.

“Really? I barely noticed!” Bokuto laughed. “Seriously, it’s just like old times.”

Akaashi ducked his head. Even Bokuto couldn’t fool himself that much. The difference between their abilities was night and day, but still, it was kind of him not to mention it. If Akaashi didn’t think too hard about it—something he was failing at royally—he could almost return to just over a year ago. He could almost feel the same blood pumping through his veins as they made the final play that won them nationals.

“When do you think you’ll be ba—”

“Hey!”

Both Akaashi and Bokuto straightened to look out the door. A groundsman had stopped to gawk at them.

“Campus is closed,” he said incredulously. “You two aren’t allowed here.”

“Sorry.” Akaashi bowed slightly. “I was looking for our coach and I forgot he wouldn’t be in today.”

The man scowled, but his surprised irritation had dissipated. “Yeah, nobody’s around today but me.” He looked past them as Akaashi apologized again. He waved him off. “Just—just clean up and get out of here.” He started off before he paused. “And make sure your coach gets your key.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Akaashi said.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” The groundsman said, halfhearted with his strictness now. “Make sure you’re gone.”

Sighing, Akaashi watched the man leave while Bokuto’s laughter started off quiet, then rose in volume until he was hanging off Akaashi’s shoulders.

“Akaashi! You’ve become such a rule breaker in my absence!”

Akaashi smiled and reached up to knock him off when he hesitated. Closing his fist, he bumped Bokuto’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’d take it that far,” he said. “Come on, we better put everything back and call it a day.”

It wasn’t much of an afternoon. The overexertion on his body felt good after months of sitting indoors studying. The time spent with Bokuto again felt even better. He was here longer than the last time Akaashi had seen him, and Akaashi could feel himself sinking so easily back into his orbit. He tried his best to resist not being pulled in by that smile and that easy nature of his, after all, it wouldn’t be long before Bokuto was out of his life again. Only a few days at most, then they’d be back to texting, whenever either of them could find the time.

They headed to the train station after the gym was cleaned and locked up.

A part of Akaashi’s mind wondered if this would be the last time they left campus for the train station, but he shook his head roughly, ridding himself of the thought. He couldn’t allow himself to linger on every time something became a last time, but with his days at Fukurodani over, it was hard not to think on every single thing that was ending.

Perhaps this, too, with Bokuto was something that was bound to end. At the end of the day, how many times could Bokuto keep coming back? This time next year, Akaashi might not even be in the same place for him to come back to.

Bokuto might come home to visit his parents and Akaashi wouldn’t be here.

Eventually, they would part ways at the train station like they always had, and that same part of Akaashi’s mind wondered if that was what lay at the end of their friendship. If, one day, Bokuto would wave at him with both arms raised for the last time, with promises of next time on his lips shouted over the heads of the crowds, and neither of them would know it.

Akaashi didn’t see Bokuto again during that short time he was home.

Before he knew it, Bokuto was back on a plane, and then weeks went by and Akaashi was moving out. They were both moving in too many different directions at once, and all roads seemed to lead away from the other’s destination.

Then, classes were starting, and Akaashi just didn’t have the time to keep running back to the past every time he took a new step forward and, in that first year, he was able to understand just how precious Bokuto’s sparse visits and phone calls were. Because Akaashi didn’t once return to Fukurodani. His life was suddenly moving at rapid speed and, to be frank, there just wasn’t anything pulling him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been real busy with everything, but I've been working on this short fic as a distraction. It's been keeping me sane. 
> 
> You can listen to the song that inspire this fic and all the chapter titles [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdQRtU5O_I).
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com)  
> [My Writing Blog](http://silentpopp.tumblr.com)


	2. The shape of the boundary you leave behind

Akaashi didn’t go far for college, but living on his own in Tokyo with his life completely swallowed up by school and his new life made home feel a world away.

His entire life fit so easily into the Todai campus. His apartment was practically on the edge of it now that he was in his second year. Even his favorite café was right in the same building as some of his seminars.

He was trying to get through his reading for the day and the coffee was helping a little. It also helped that he had read _Kokoro_ in high school. Plenty of kids in the class hadn’t read it before, but Akaashi had back in high school as well as a few others on their book list. It had to do with the fact that this wasn’t just a general class for him. It was his major. Of course he’d done the basics in high school.

There was also a book of collections also on the table and he had to get through half of it by the end of the week.

His phone buzzed on the table. He exchanged his coffee cup for it while his other hand marked his place.

He half expected it to be one of his friends wanting to meet up and quiz each other for their language exam tomorrow, but instead, it was his mother.

Again, she wanted to know if he was coming home for spring break at the end of March. He tapped his finger against the back of his phone. She’d only just seen him for winter break a few weeks ago and he was pretty sure he’d told her that his mind was made up. That, no, he would not be coming home. Not when they were only a train ride away if he ever wanted to stop by for a weekend, which he never did. He had too much work due to spend a week and a half lazing around at home.

Instead of answering right away, he turned his phone off and put it back on the table. He’d message her later. There was no point in interrupting his reading for that.

But Akaashi’s eyes didn’t move across the page once he found where he’d left off. He was kind of tired after a long day of classes and lectures. His coffee was cold, too. And the book was nearly finished. Sure, it’d be better to finish it now while his mind was on it, but was his mind really concentrating? Not anymore.

He could finish tonight.

So, he packed his things, checked his phone once more to make sure a last-minute study session hadn’t been planned while he’d been distracted, and he left.

The weather was a bit cooler today, though people were still out in droves. The cherry blossom season would kick into high gear any day now and that would make the foot traffic unbearable. It was overcast, which was nice, though people already had their umbrellas out as if expecting rain.

Just as he stepped inside his apartment, his phone rang. He answered it without looking at the screen, expecting to finally get the study memo.

“I’m guessing you’re not busy.”

Akaashi dropped his bag to the ground inside the doorway as he toed off his shoes. “Udai-san.”

“So? Am I right?”

“I just got home,” Akaashi said, and before Udai could get another word in, he thought better of it and continued, “and, unlike somebody, I still have classes to go to and homework to do. We can’t all sit in our rooms and doodle the day away.”

“Hey,” Udai snapped playfully, “They’re better than doodles and you know it.”

Akaashi snorted. “You didn’t dispute wasting the day.”

“I am _now_.”

“What’s up, Udai-san? I have an exam to study for.”

“Is it art?”

“You do portfolios in art, not exams.”

“I believe you’re forgetting art history.”

“Oh, yes, forgive me for neglecting art history,” he said dryly as he set the kettle on the stove for tea.

Udai was laughing on the other side. “If it’s anything other than that, I’m afraid I can’t help. Even if it was art history, I think I’ve forgotten most of that,” he said, trailing off with his muttering.

“It’s English, and you still haven’t told me why you’re chatting my ear off instead of—I don’t know—looking for a job.”

“Ouch,” Udai hissed. “I think you meant doodling, but yes, you’re right. I called because I need a favor.”

The kettle hadn’t gone off, but it was good enough. Akaashi just wanted to warm up, despite the temperature rising with each day further they stepped into spring.

“Can you come over?”

Akaashi groaned.

“Okay! Sheesh,” Udai said laughing again. “Can I come to you? I need some smart eyes to look over something I’ve written.”

“I’m not a writer, Udai-san.”

“No, but you’re a reader. Your actual major is literature. So, you read, you circle things that suck with a red pen, you tell me you like it, and I’ll buy you coffee.”

Akaashi was quiet a moment.

“Two coffees?”

Akaashi covered his face with his hand to suppress another groan.

“Sold! Three coffees it is! I’ll be over in ten.”

Akaashi had a lot of upperclassmen friends his first year thanks to Udai. They’d been in the same literature class—a class full of first years, Udai had been catching up on some electives he’d put off to the last minute. Akaashi had, maybe mistakenly, complimented Udai’s doodles in the margins of his notes the day they sat next to each other. He’d been hard to get rid of after that.

Udai was also the only friend who’d kept in contact after graduation. That was largely in part due to his lack of employment. He also hadn’t moved out of his apartment, which was just a few blocks from Akaashi’s new one at the start of his second year.

He had a way of weaseling favors out of Akaashi, which grew more and more irksome the longer he was unemployed and the more intense Akaashi’s studies got.

Still, Akaashi couldn’t tell him no. Maybe high school had worn him down.

So, it wasn’t unusual for Udai to show Akaashi his notebook full of sketches and notes scribbled into corners. He claimed to be working on a manga, but Akaashi had yet to see something put together. In fact, most were character sheets or drawings of action sequences without dialogue. Akaashi figured he was right to call them doodles—maybe warm-ups were more like it—because Udai never seemed to take the next step.

But he was looking over something different that day. In fact, there were no drawings at all.

Udai had entered his apartment, already handing off a packet of pages into Akaashi’s hands, before he made himself at home on one of the few pieces of furniture Akaashi owned, a beat-up sofa he’d convinced his aunt not to throw out.

“How’s it going?” Udai asked, not even giving Akaashi a chance to get halfway through.

“It’s not like you to actually give me something to read,” he murmured from his seat on the floor.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Akaashi-kun” Udai teased. “It’s just a chapter.”

Akaashi glanced up at him, gnawing on the cap of his red pen.

Udai pulled the magazine up higher in order to hide and, suddenly, Akaashi found himself staring at a very different face. One he didn’t expect to see showing up so randomly out of the blue.

“What’re you reading?” blurted past his lips, and he was already leaning forward on his knees.

“You never really cared to talk volleyball with me before,” Udai drawled out, lowering the magazine, eyebrows raised until he flipped it around to see the cover. “That’s right,” he continued. “It’s all connecting now.” He leaned his elbows on his thighs. “You two went to high school together.”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, lifting his glass as his eyes squinted to read the finer print on the cover.

_Japan calls him MVP after nail-biting match. Full interview inside!_

“Can I see?”

Udai’s eyebrows shot up again and he leaned back into the couch, pulling the magazine to his chest. “No way! You have work to do, sir. And, if I _did_ give it to you, you’d be all distracted and completely forget to study for your exam tomorrow,” Udai said with a shameful shake of his head. “No, I think I’ll be a good friend and make sure you don’t have any distractions.”

Akashi frowned. “Udai-san.” His voice wasn’t totally unpleasant.

“Oh, just finish editing the chapter, and let _me_ finish _this_ , and then we’ll see.”

Akaashi knew that it was unlike Udai to seriously taunt him more than a slight tease. As much as he joked around, he was too laid-back to ever take his joking too far. In fact, he probably hadn’t even brought the magazine to antagonize Akaashi. Udai had continued to be a volleyball fan despite how he’d never pursued it past high school. Akaashi had heard he even went to see Karasuno play back when Akaashi was a second year. They hadn’t known each other then.

That meant Udai had just connected the dots that one of Japan’s national team’s wing spikers was Akaashi’s old classmate. Akaashi cringed wondering how Udai would use that to his advantage later, but Akaashi’s curiosity won out too much for him to really care.

Even with the distraction hanging over his head, it didn't take Akaashi much longer to finish Udai's chapter. In all honesty, it wasn't even a fully fleshed out chapter. More like well stringed together notes and dialogue. Words that Udai would later connect with images.

"Pointed out some grammar stuff and any place the dialogue felt stiff," Akaashi said, handing the packet back to Udai, now with the edition of his red critiques. "I'm assuming the action notes will make sense when you actually draw them, but so far, the story is clear and easy to follow."

Udai grabbed the packet back eagerly and Akaashi watched the magazine slide from his hands to the couch. "You really think so?"

"Sure, you just need to finish," Akaashi replied. "Get something that could be a volume together before you ask me to look at it again. And you might want to outline what the first arc will look like. Nobody will publish you if they think you're just marching blindly forward."

"That's some good advice, Akaashi," Udai teased. "Especially coming from someone who isn't a writer."

"Happy to help," Akaashi muttered dryly.

"Oh—" Udai turned his eyes from Akaashi's notes back to the volleyball magazine "—and for your hard work, I leave you this."

Akaashi accepted the magazine but didn't allow his eyes to drop to it just yet. "As well as your departure from my apartment?"

Udai pretended to consider his request for a moment. "Hmm, that one I'm not sure about. If I leave you alone, you might forget to do your studying."

"And if you stay, I'll never get to it," Akaashi said. "Better take the risk of you leaving then."

Already, Udai was hauling himself to his feet. "Alright, alright," he breathed, patting down his pockets. "Good luck with your exam and tell that high school friend of yours I say hello."

Akaashi could feel his face heating up as he walked Udai to the door. "We haven't—we don't—" he shrugged lamely "—I haven't seen him since graduation."

Udai's face sobered with recognition before shifting into an expression Akaashi always found unreadable. It never failed to remind him that Udai was his senior.

"Then I suggest you call him instead of relying on updates from a sports magazine." Any hint of his earlier teasing was gone, and then, so was he, the door shut behind him.

Again, Akaashi didn't look at the magazine. He couldn't even hold it face-up in his hands. He left it on his desk while he showered and got ready for the rest of his evening.

He studied for his English exam for as long as he could bear it, but his eyes kept wandering across the room to where the magazine lay. 

He didn't have time to call Bokuto. They hadn't spoken for over a year and a half. Akaashi had gotten a few scattered text messages, sometimes around holidays or his birthday, but he never responded. He could never find the right words to say and then days would pass and it was too late to respond even if he wanted to.

He didn't know Bokuto's schedule. He wasn't even sure he'd pick up if he called.

But what he could do was read his interview and find out more about this match that had named him MVP.

It was about time to take a break from studying anyway.

With his desk lamp on, Akaashi stared down at the back cover of the magazine, which ran some ad for cologne. 

Come to think of it, Akaashi hadn't seen one of Bokuto's matches since high school.

Mentally, he kicked himself for being a bad friend and opened up the magazine.

He had to blink a little to clear his eyes from that first page, a full page spread of just Bokuto and the team. They were all huddled up, but Bokuto was the focus, grinning wide, eyes shut, his forehead had just a sheen of sweat. Had it really been that long since he'd even seen a picture of Bokuto? It didn't feel like it, but his heart squeezed, forcing the breath out of him the moment he laid eyes on that smile again.

He was older now.

Not substantially. It hadn't been _that_ long. But there were little telltale signs that he was no longer the boy Akaashi had played volleyball with in high school. No, his hair was just a tad shorter, more contained. He had a certain confidence about him—something Akaashi had only glimpsed that time they'd practiced after Akaashi's graduation. It was a confidence that he had just started growing into his third year, but now it was in full bloom.

Akaashi had to remind himself to breathe.

It was alright. This was how things were now. It was alright to see what his old classmates were up to, to take a peek into their lives now.

He just hadn't expected this wave of nostalgia to crash into him. The fierce desire for things to be what they had been years ago.

Swallowing, he flipped to the next page where the interview started.

Scanning the pages—there were many since Bokuto's was the featured interview this issue—Akaashi wasn't sure if reading it had been a mistake.

It was exactly like reading a text message from Bokuto, only this was more like the old conversations they used to have. Hearing him talk on and on, like when they had lunch, and Bokuto insisted on accompanying Akaashi instead of his third year friends.

This interview was exactly like that. 

Akaashi could practically hear his excitement leaking off the page, hear his happy hoots right in his ears as if he were there.

And then Akaashi's eyes slipped to the next picture.

There was Bokuto again, hands clenched into fists, arms raised, victorious. Two teammates were running into him from behind, seconds away from tackling him to the ground, while another teammate approached a few steps behind.

Again, Akaashi didn't understand why these images were so overwhelming to see.

He knew these moments, snapshots of moments passing by too quickly. In another time, he had been part of them, living them.

How clearly he saw the last match of his second year, the year they were the national champs. The year he set Bokuto the set that had felt so seamless as it had left his fingertips, the set that had made time slow just so Akaashi could watch it travel through the air only to be slammed down by one of the most perfect cut shots Akaashi had ever seen.

It soared right past the blockers and landed just so that Akaashi was afraid that it had landed out of bounds.

But then the line judge called it in, and it was as if his feet had only just touched the ground when strong arms had wrapped around him, lifting him back up.

Their heads knocked together and, for a millisecond—one so short that Akaashi wasn't even sure it had happened—he felt lips press against his sweat damp curls.

And then his feet slammed back on the ground, his knees buckled, and the rest of the team collapsed onto them.

How did moments like that exist in the same world that also included moments of intense loneliness, missing everything that was now long out of his reach?

Once more, Akaashi reminded himself to breathe.

* * *

After reading Bokuto's interview, Akaashi had promised himself that he'd call Bokuto. It'd been too long since they spoke to one another and as easy as it was to hear his voice roll off the magazine's pages, it wasn't the same.

Also, it happened to be that Udai was right. Akaashi just wasn't up to the task of admitting it.

So, when Udai sent him an outline a few weeks later to look over—forgetting that Akaashi had wanted a full volume of work before anything else—Akaashi accepted it without a word and gave him back his notes.

But, despite that unspoken promise to himself, Akaashi didn't call Bokuto right away. In fact, weeks passed, and even when Akaashi was at the point where he was about throw caution to the wayside and dial without a second thought, he reminded himself that Bokuto might be at practice, and pocketed his phone.

That was what held his finger back from pushing that simple little call button.

He had no idea when Bokuto practiced. They could have night practices. They could have ass crack of dawn practices. Akaashi didn't even know if Bokuto was still taking college classes on the side.

He was a stranger to Bokuto's schedule and Bokuto's life. He couldn't even wager a guess when the best time to call was. And Akaashi was nothing but practical. If he was going to call, then it was going to be done right and on the first try.

Because most of all, he dreaded hearing the dial rings, one after another, and then inevitably landing in Bokuto's voicemail.

Somewhere along the line, he'd also promised himself he wouldn't leave a message. That just begged the scenario where they phone-tagged back and forth until one of them gave up and resorted back to text messaging. Then Akaashi would never hear Bokuto's voice, and they'd drift back off into silence just like the past...well, it was almost two years now.

And that thought depressed Akaashi even more.

Which meant he buried himself even more fervently into his studies. So much so that even Udai didn't see much of him.

And then it was spring break, and Akaashi was stuck even more alone with no more homework to distract him and with most of his friends going home for two weeks.

Akaashi made it two days of doing nothing but walking back and forth from his favorite cafe. And then, on the night of the second day, he pulled out his phone and, not knowing even what time it was—only that it was dark outside his window—he pressed call and brought the phone up to his ear.

It rang.

And it rang.

And on the third ring, Akaashi thought for sure that he'd be left disappointed. The thought dropped like a heavy stone in his stomach and he knew he wouldn't have the guts to call again.

But, just as he was about to snap his phone shut and crawl into bed, the next ring cut short.

"Akaashi!"  
The voice nearly burst his eardrum, so much so that he pulled the phone away on reflex.

"Bokuto-san." It was out mumbled past his lips before he realized he had no idea what to say. He started blankly out his window.

"It's been a while."

"Uh, it has."

"I mean," Bokuto rambled nearly over top of his words, "I've been pretty busy. Our schedule got crazy! We've been on planes almost every weekend. Coach is afraid all the traveling will get us sick, so we have all these additions to our diet to make sure we're getting all of our vitamins, you know? But we’re still doing really awesome! I don't think we've lost in...I can't remember when! You know what I also can't remember? the last time we talked! It's so good to hear your voice!"

Akaashi wasn't sure how he could possibly say that when he hadn't even spoken more than three words. It was much better to hear Bokuto's voice. His rambling misled him into thinking this was the way it used to be, had always been, and still was.

Even if that was not the case.

"That's my fault, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said before Bokuto could take the pause as a go-ahead to keep talking. "I'm sorry. I should've kept in touch better."

"But you're in university now, right?" There was a short pause and Akaashi swore he heard Bokuto counting the months under his breath. "Second year? Holy cow Akaashi! You're almost halfway done already!"

Akaashi laughed into his fist. "It certainly doesn't feel that way."

"This is so weird but—" Bokuto breathed a laugh into the speaker "—I don't even know what you're studying. What a terrible friend, am I right?"

"What?" Akaashi's jaw dropped. "No, Bokuto-san. That's not at all the case. You've been very busy, like you said. You're a professional volleyball player. I'm just a—university student. I should've—I should've done better at reaching out to you, keeping in touch and everything."

Bokuto didn't say anything for a moment. Akaashi could practically see him mulling it all over on the other end, wherever he was in that moment. Whatever time zone. Akaashi hadn't even thought to ask if he'd woken him up or interrupted something important.

"I think," Bokuto finally said, "I think you should tell me what you're studying and then we should start over and pretend like we never stopped talking."

A smile pulled on Akaashi's lips. "I'm studying literature, Bokuto-san."

"Oh, that's great because I know lots about literature. I could go on and on about my favorite—books...yeah—I've read loads of those. Ummm—" he laughed breathily into the phone "—you know, I'm one hundred percent blanking on any books right now."

"You didn't read very much in high school, did you?" Akaashi teased.

Bokuto groaned loudly. "Not if I could help it. What do I look like, Akaashi? You were the smart one!"

"I suppose that's probably true."

And then they were both laughing, Akaashi’s laughter an echo to Bokuto’s.

Akaashi couldn't remember the last time he’d laughed this hard with one of his university friends. Not even with Udai. And it wasn’t like he and Bokuto were being particularly funny.

Maybe part of it was just relief.

When he had finally caught his breath, Akaashi asked him about what he'd been up to, the highlights of his latest matches, and Bokuto was eager to share.

"You know," he said when Bokuto had paused to take a breath, "I saw your interview about a month ago."

"A month ago?" Bokuto squawked. "I did that thing last year! Oh, Akaashi, do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"What," he said, "it was a good interview."

Bokuto grumbled something unintelligible before saying, "Whatever, no big deal. My next one will be twice as good. I'm gonna be the team's ace! Just like when we played together."

"I have no doubt." Akaashi smiled and looked down at his watch. They'd been talking for a while now. It was nearly eleven. "By the way, Bokuto-san, where are you? I hope I didn't interrupt anything by calling you this late."

"No way! There was no way I was missing your call!" Bokuto exclaimed. "Luckily though, you called just as we were getting off the plane. I'm in Tokyo! We're home for a while."

Akaashi sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Oh really?"

"Yeah! Actually, we have a bit of a break coming up. It'll be for, like, a month! But before then, we have this fundraiser match thing with the women's team. That'll be super cool. All the guys are really excited for that."

“That sounds like a lot of fun.” Akaashi leaned forward, chin on the palm of his hand.

“Absolutely, it’s been a running joke with the guys. All we do is practice, travel, and play matches with each other. No one has much of a social life, so apparently this game is a big deal.”

Akaashi laughed. “Definitely because of the charity.”

“Yamauchi said he hasn’t talked to a girl in months,” Bokuto said, voice almost deadpan. “I think it’s pretty serious.”

“And what about you, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked

Bokuto laughed. “Oh, you know me,” he said. “I’m pretty excited just to play volleyball. Doesn’t matter much where or who we play.”

Something within him released its painfully tight grip on his heart. Akaashi let out an uncontrollable sigh of relief before snapping his jaw shut, afraid Bokuto might’ve heard.

“The only problem though,” Bokuto continued, “is that I don’t know what to do? Are we supposed to let them win? Or are we supposed to bring it—you know—like it’s for real? I have no idea, Akaashi. I’ve never played against girls before.”

That time, Akaashi laughed even louder, unable to contain it bubbling in his chest. “Oh, Bokuto-san, I think you’d piss them off if you gave anything less than your best.”

“Hm, that makes sense.”

“Besides, people will be there to see the two national teams face off. They’ll be expecting a good game.”

“You’re right!” Bokuto said loudly, his enthusiasm returning. “Man, now I’m so pumped for the match. I really hope it lasts long enough for coach to put me in.”

Though his lips parted to speak, Akaashi paused a second. “What do you mean?” He hadn’t been watching any of Bokuto’s matches lately. Honestly, it had just slipped his mind with school and everything else.

“Well,” Bokuto started awkwardly, making Akaashi slump to hear his mood switching around again, “I don’t exactly start. We have a pretty deep bench and we don’t play all year long. Actually, I’ve started playing a bit with a different club team. That’s typically what the other players do. I get to play a lot more because of it.”

“Huh, I didn’t think about that.”

“But it’s no big deal!” Now Bokuto sounded like the one reassuring him. “When I do get that month off, we should make time to hang out. You’re at Todai, right?”

Blinking, Akaashi hadn’t realized Bokuto knew where he’d gone to university. He might not have known what Akaashi was studying or what classes he was taking or what he got up to on a day-to-day basis, but he still cared enough to know.

And yet Akaashi didn’t even know Bokuto had been out of the country.

“I am,” he said haltingly. “Where have you guys been practicing when you’re in Japan?”

“The Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, so pretty much in the same neck of the woods!” Bokuto said. “Or at the very least, a train ride away.”

“In that case, we should definitely meet up,” Akaashi said, which was met with a cheer. “Text me after your big game, when you have some time.”

He could almost see Bokuto nodding at the sound of his hair scratching over the speaker.

“You bet! I definitely will not forget!”

* * *

And Bokuto did not forget. For once, when they made a promise, they kept it. Akaashi had half expected them to float away again, like they had every other time. Bokuto had made so many promises to keep in touch, promises that Akaashi hadn’t helped in keeping either.

But this time, when Akaashi’s phone buzzed as he left class, it wasn’t a study session request, or a friend asking to go out to lunch, or even Udai asking to bother him at his place.

It was Bokuto, and he was officially off for a month.

He still had practices, he texted Akaashi, but they were lighter sessions with zero matches. There weren’t even practice matches in their schedule.

Akaashi sat on it for a few days, glancing at the messages between class, wondering what to say, unsure if he should make promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

This time, he didn’t want to be the one to let Bokuto down. He didn’t want to be the cause of any misplaced expectations.

Classes were back in swing by that point. Akaashi was meeting friends to study and do homework nearly every night and at least one day on the weekends. The other day was spent on his own work. He didn't want to throw a date and time out there to meet up with Bokuto, only to have something come up. As much as he wanted to see him, as much as his heart squeezed at the thought of him, Akaashi knew that he would have to pick school over taking the train to the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium for an afternoon.

And it was too easy to find a reason not to get on that train.

Which was stupid. It was beyond stupid. He didn't need Udai to tell him that, though he still blabbed Akaashi's ear off for a full afternoon about it.

"If I see you looking at your phone one more time, I'm going to throw something," Udai said from the floor. It wasn't like they were doing anything important. Udai was on his back, reading manga talking about plot holes while Akaashi studied. "Seriously. We are having a conversation. I am your _guest_."

Akaashi set his pencil down. "I didn't even invite you over. You jumped me as I was walking home and forced your way inside like a stray cat."

"Wrong," Udai said. "If I were a stray cat, you would've fed me by now."

Snorting, Akaashi tried to return to memorizing poems for his lit class. So far, it wasn't going very well.

"And it's beyond me," Udai continued, "why you won't text him back. I know you're talking to that handsome volleyball boy from high school."

"Why do you think that?" Akaashi asked, trying to sound uninterested even though his mind was everywhere but on his poetry. "And who said he was handsome?"

"Oh, it's a mixture of things. The sighing, the forlorn looks toward your phone, the lack of messaging back," Udai said, sitting up, his manga laying forgotten on the floor. "And it's also based on the fact that you still haven't given me back my volleyball magazine."

Akaashi looked up, not sure if that made him guilty or not. "I didn't know you wanted it back."

"Uh, yeah!" Udai was grinning now. Akaashi had given up all the proof he needed. "I was only halfway through before you tore it from my hands."

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to rise to Udai's bait. "Okay, no need to exaggerate. If you want it back so badly, take it."

Udai raised a brow and leaned forward, leering at Akaashi. "That depends. Are you done with it?"

Akaashi opened his mouth to respond that, of course, he was done with it, but Udai continued, cutting him off.

"And if you're done with it, does that mean you're going to see the real thing?" He leaned back on his hands, looking smug. "Trust me, a magazine can't compete with real life."

Akaashi gritted his teeth.

Udai watched him for a second, both waiting to see who was going to start talking first, but then Udai whipped out his phone and started typing quickly.

"What are you doing?" Akaashi asked, nearly teetering on the edge of the couch.

"Texting all of your friends," he said slowly, not looking up. Before Akaashi could say anything else, Udai snapped his phone shut, grinning even wider. "I told them not to bother you this weekend because you already have plans."

Akaashi frowned. "I do not.”

Udai’s phone buzzed in his lap and continued to do so as he looked through the messages. He must’ve started a group chat, Akaashi through to his chagrin.

“Takahashi says congratulations. Same with Yuri and Nakamura.” Udai’s lips parted in a wicked grin. “And Suzuki says get it, Keiji-kun.”

Akaashi could feel his face heating up. “I have a Japanese lit exam to get ready for and so do Suzuki and Takahashi. We were all going to run over the poems for it tomorrow."

Shrugging, Udai picked his manga up off the ground. "I guess you'll just have to do it on the train ride to Shibuya."

"Shibuya?"

"Uh, yeah, where the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium is?" Udai rolled over onto his back. "You know, just because I don't play anymore, doesn't mean I suddenly became an idiot. I know where the National volleyball team plays, duh." He peeked over the top of his manga at Akaashi. "And you better not force my hand. Or else I will make those plans for you and get you to Shibuya myself."

Akaashi stared at him for a moment. "Why?"

"Because I'm your friend?" Udai shook his head as his eyes scanned the pages. "And your sighs have been unusually somber today. Can't have that now, can we?"

Akaashi always knew that he'd carved out a good life for himself at Todai. There were reasons why he never went back to Fukurodani, why he never looked back. But it was always nice to be reminded.

Because, at once point, it was scary stepping forward with the only comforting words being wait until it feels normal again. But now it did feel normal. This—sitting in his apartment with Udai reading manga—was normal.

Somewhere in that sentiment was relief.

But what caused his stomach to drop was the fact that taking a train to see Bokuto in person was not normal.

It was out of the ordinary and, if Akaashi was honest with himself, it was the tiniest bit scary.

In fact, he was so worried that he forgot to even message Bokuto that he was coming.

He had remembered to pack all of his study material. He had remembered to put his shoes on after his socks. He had his keys, phone, shirt right side out; he didn't look like a mess.

But it was only after stepping out onto the platform—a handful of poems newly memorized—that he realized he never told Bokuto that he'd be in Shibuya for the day. Akaashi didn't even know if the team was practicing, didn’t know if Bokuto lived in this part of the city or not.

Though his stomach was in knots, Akaashi tried not to worry even more. He made his way out to the busy streets and nearly lost himself in the crowd. With his entire life spent in Tokyo, Akaashi had rarely visited Shibuya, even during these past two years at Todai. There was simply no need.

But maybe he would have rethought that had he known Bokuto was only a train ride away, as long as he wasn't abroad playing a match. Akaashi wasn't as knowledgeable as Udai when it came to knowing where the National Japan volleyball team practiced. Then again, he had not kept up with volleyball, not even to watch Bokuto's games, a fact which he hated himself for now.

Akaashi checked his phone for directions, but he didn't have to look far. The train had literally driven right past it with him unaware. All he had to do was cross the street from the Sendagaya Station.

He stared up at the building for a moment. It was a cloudy day and he didn't have to squint his eyes. While it wasn't nearly as tall as other buildings he'd seen in Tokyo, it certainly was large and impressive looking. He tried to imagine coming here for practice like it was routine. Like walking up to this giant was ordinary. After two year of playing pro, did it ever feel normal to Bokuto? Even the slightest bit less impressive than it felt to Akaashi right now?

_Are you in Shibuya?_

Akaashi kept the text vague as he found a seat on a bench. He didn't want Bokuto to know he was right on his doorstep if he wasn't home, so to say. Akaashi didn't want to get Bokuto's hopes up and crush them if he happened to be away just because it was Akaashi's fault for not planning better.

After all, it was his fault this all felt so last minute. It was his fault that it was so poorly planned, and it was his fault if he stomped on his own raised hopes and wasted his afternoon.

If this didn't work out, he could always take the train home. He still managed to study. The day wouldn't be a total loss, but that didn't account for the pit growing in his stomach.

If this didn't work out, he tried to tell himself, then he could always come back another weekend.

But with finals approaching and exams to prep for, Akaashi wasn't sure if he could write off another day to come to Shibuya, even if he did plan it all out.

He wanted to pull at his hair in frustration because he so desperately wanted this to work, but he kept his hands locked around his satchel.

He should've known it was too good to be true. He and Bokuto had made plenty of promises that sounded sweeter than they were. That they would keep in touch, that they would visit one another, but then it'd been two years of silence before Akaashi had called him over spring break. He should've known that that was all their friendship was good for. A brief reconnection after weeks, months, now years of living their own lives before wading back out into their separate seas, different directions. Different lives.

"If I’d known you were coming today, I would've showered after practice."

Akaashi's head shot up and there, standing in front of him, was Bokuto.

"Of course, that might've kept you waiting even longer, but yes—" Bokuto straightened, planting his hands on his hips "—I'm in Shibuya, and so are you."

Despite all the moisture leaving his mouth, Akaashi managed a smile, managed composure while on the inside his heart was hammering against his chest.

"Surprise, Bokuto-san," he said quietly, almost shyly.

"Akaashi!" And Bokuto grabbed him by his jacket and hauled him to his feet. "You really did surprise me! I almost walked right past you! But I didn't because I'd recognize you anywhere."

Akaashi ducked his head. "Even though it's been awhile?"

Bokuto nodded with a grin. "Yup! No doubt about it, though I'll admit the glasses did throw me for a second," he laughed and Akaashi reached up self-consciously. "Would you recognize me?"

Akaashi looked at him. In those two years he seemed to have gotten even bigger. The magazine pictures hadn’t done him justice. Not really. Akaashi felt dwarfed beside him. Broader chest, muscled arms that stretched the sleeves of his shirt. Only his hair drooped with drying sweat from practice.

"Hmm," Akaashi hummed, still looking him over. "Maybe, but only because of the hair."

"It's a little shorter I think from the last time you saw it," Bokuto observed, plucking at the tips. "That was your graduation, right?"

Akaashi nodded. "Quite a while ago."

Bokuto looked down at him for a moment, maybe scanning him over for all of his own changes after all these years. He hadn’t had the courtesy of a picture in the magazine to remind him that Akaashi was off in Tokyo somewhere, still existing, still living his own underwhelming life. Akaashi distantly wondered if Bokuto had forgotten about him—not completely—but if there were days where he didn’t think of Akaashi at all.

Then, Bokuto motioned with his head. "Let's walk."

Readjusting his bag over his shoulder, Akaashi followed just a step behind.

There was a park nearby and Bokuto led them through the colorful red gates and down a path. It was pretty busy with the cherry blossom season in full bloom, but Bokuto headed in the opposite direction of the crowds and pink blossoms. They were still surrounded by people, but they weren't so tightly packed in. They could walk side-by-side without bumping into each other.

"I come here to run sometimes after practice," Bokuto explained. "Though not too much lately, it's been so busy."

"I can see that," Akaashi said, glancing around. He wasn't sure where to look. Definitely not at Bokuto, and he wasn't sure what to say to him either now that the initial greeting was over.

There were words to say hello. To ask someone how they’d been. But after that, you had to do the work to follow the ensuing silence. Akaashi hadn’t prepared for that. He’d been too busy memorizing poems on the way over, too nervous to imagine pretend conversations.

Bokuto seemed to have a similar problem. That, or he was comfortable enough to walk in silence, which definitely wasn't like him. Or, it wasn't like the Bokuto Akaashi had known, and that thought bothered him more than it should have.

"Am I—" The words suddenly rushed from Bokuto’s mouth, but he quickly cut them off. "Am I a shitty friend? Are we shitty friends, Akaashi?"

That made Akaashi look at him, his lips slightly parted but no words seemed like the right words to say to him. Akaashi wasn’t sure if he had any words of comfort to offer.

"I think," he started slowly, "I think we're friends as long as we both want that. Whether or not that's shitty is up to perspective."

"I don't think it's shitty," Bokuto said quickly.

"I—” Akaashi was about to agree, but he held himself back "—honestly, I don't know what I think, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto looked at him with a frown and it hurt his heart. "You don't?"

"It's complicated. Wouldn’t you say?" Akaashi sighed. "We're both so busy living our own lives. Can we really be friends even if we don't spend time together?"

"We're spending time together now."

"But today was a total accident. I meant to tell you I was coming, but I got so caught up with everything that I forgot," Akaashi mumbled, more to himself than Bokuto. "If you hadn't found me, we could have easily walked right past each other. We could’ve had another two years of not speaking. Maybe longer."

Bokuto hung his head. "I know. I should be a better friend and remember to call you more often."

Akaashi met his gaze. "It’s not all on you. I'm in the same boat. I didn't reach out those two years either."

But Bokuto's lips quirked into the smallest of smiles. "But you did," he teased.

Akaashi gave him a quizzical look.

"Remember? You were the one to call me when you read my awesome interview."

"I—guess you're right."

"And accident or not, we're still hanging out and chatting and while it might be a little serious right now, we're still acting like friends. Doesn't matter how long it's been. It's always easy to talk to you, Akaashi. You act like being friends has to be this difficult thing." Laughing, Bokuto slapped Akaashi's shoulder.

Akaashi allowed himself to smile. "I guess you're right, Bokuto-san. I'm sorry for taking things so seriously. Your friendship is important to me."

It was Bokuto's turn to sigh as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Man, there are some days where I wish you came to play on the team with me. It'd be like high school never ended. We'd see each other almost every day again and it'd be awesome."

Akaashi held himself from sighing, too. He loved his life now, but he did long for those times every now and then. For times that were simpler, where friendship was easy and hanging out didn't have to be paired with a night of studying. For times that included having Bokuto at his side.

"High school can't last forever," he said instead. "This is the way things are in the real world, which I'm not sure you count, being a pro volleyball player. That still sounds like fantasy to me."

"I know." Bokuto smiled softly. "Sometimes I still don't feel like it's real. Also—" his face scrunched up "—the real world sucks."

“Yeah,” Akaashi sighed with a smile. “Sometimes it does.”

“But we can keep hanging out like this, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Akaashi said, taken aback for a moment. “I mean, you don’t think you’ll be too busy for that?’’

Bokuto shook his head roughly. “No way, no way. Not too busy for you, Akaashi,” he said. “Just say the word, and I’ll be on a train to Todai in no time.”

“Really,” Akaashi said. Bokuto’s words sounded too good to be true.

“Absolutely, this weekend, this—” Bokuto pointed between the two of them “—it’s totally a thing now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could update faster, but work has gotten increasingly busy with everything that's going on, but thank you so, so much for the kind kudos and comments. They seriously make my day.
> 
> And yeah! This fic got a chapter longer.
> 
> You can listen to the song that inspire this fic and all the chapter titles [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdQRtU5O_I).
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com)  
> [My Writing Blog](http://silentpopp.tumblr.com)


	3. All I want

“And you know what I really miss? That last summer camp. Man, those were some good times, you know?” Bokuto said, leaning back in his chair.

Akaashi had found that the times he’d met up with Bokuto for coffee weren’t always good ideas for how hyper and chatty it made him, but on days that Akaashi just wanted to sit back and listen, they were good days. In fact, any day that he stepped away from Todai and his apartment to spend with Bokuto were good days. Maybe just not always good ideas.

“Like, we were _so_ busy training every day, but getting to hang out with you and Kuroo every night, just hitting the ball around, it was the best,” Bokuto continued. “And then when those first years joined in? It was so awesome watching how fast they picked up on things. Like Hinata. Tsukki too! Remember seeing them that summer and then again at nationals? They were so good, Akaashi! I really wish we had a chance to play them.”

“They improved a lot thanks to you and Kuroo,” Akaashi said. He held his drink up to his lips but left it there. It had gone cold with his attention instead placed on Bokuto. Even now, he watched him across the rim.

“Tsukki still wouldn’t have stood a chance against me though.” Bokuto laughed. “Right, Akaashi?”

Akaashi took a sip and made a face before setting his cup down. He really needed to stop wasting his drinks every time he went out like this. Either they cooled too fast or the ice watered them down from the heat outside. With the sweltering, end of summer heat outside, Akaashi should stick to cold drinks anyway, but it was early. It was still just cool enough to justify a coffee since they were meeting before Bokuto’s afternoon practice.

“I don’t know about that,” Akaashi replied. “Tsukishima was getting pretty good at blocking Ushijima-san by the end of their match with Shiratorizawa. We watched that one on TV, remember?”

“Aww, Akaashi!” Bokuto wilted, causing Akaashi to laugh.

“What happened to taking pride over your underclassmen’s improvement?” he asked.

Bokuto grimaced. “Ah, you’re right, you’re right! I feel so torn!”

“It’s been awhile, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi reminded him gently. “You don’t have to worry about a match against Karasuno. You’re a pro now.”

“Besides, we totally would’ve beaten them,” Bokuto said with a wide grinned.

Akaashi smiled back, but he couldn’t share Bokuto’s outlook. Karasuno had been packed with strong players and they all adapted and grew as quickly as the first years Bokuto had helped mentor that summer. And with a genius setter like Kageyama, Akaashi wasn’t so sure Fukurodani would have claimed the national champs title with a matchup against them. They’d been lucky.

The pause in the conversation allowed Akaashi a chance to check the time. It’d been nearly two hours already and it was nearing noon. No wonder his coffee had grown cold so fast. Time always flew whenever he was spending it with Bokuto.

Bokuto caught him looking at his watch and his mood immediately plummeted.

“Time to go already?” he asked.

Akaashi wanted to say he could stick around just a little longer, but Bokuto had practice and Akaashi had a train to catch back to Todai. They had already used up their allotted time for this weekend.

“Unfortunately,” Akaashi told him. “I have a shift this afternoon.”

“You’re no fun,” Bokuto said, watching Akaashi stand up from their table. “You should come watch us practice sometime.”

“I’d like that, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto stood up as well. “Yeah, and you keep saying that every time I suggest it.”

Akaashi opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t. “Well, I _would_ like that. It’s just that I—”

“—have a lot going on,” Bokuto finished for him, rolling his eyes but pinching Akaashi’s arm playfully as he held the door open for him. “C’mon, Akaashi. Isn’t it your summer break?”

“You know I have work, and break’s almost over.”

“Alright, next time. Oh!” Bokuto caught up to him, both heading toward the train station. “Speaking of break, there’s been something I wanted to ask you.”

Akaashi turned to look at him. “Yes.”

Bokuto’s eyes immediately fluttered away—to his hands, to the streets—anywhere but Akaashi. “Actually, it’s a couple of things. I keep forgetting,” he trailed off, causing Akaashi to smile.

“I’m all ears,” Akaashi said.

Bokuto took a deep breath. “Alright, so I know it’s a little early—”

“Okay.”

“—but you’re still on break—”

“I am.”

“—so I figured I might as well ask—”

“Hey, Bokuto!”

Their heads immediately turned to look farther down the sidewalk. Akaashi hadn’t realized they’d been staring so intently at each other until the weight of Bokuto’s eyes was gone. He could feel the blood running to his face.

Three guys were heading their way, waving at them and knocking into each other as they tried to not bump into anyone else passing buy. They carried gym bags identical to Bokuto’s.

Bokuto was only flustered for a second at the interruption. “Guys!” He surged ahead and they were all handshaking and clapping each other on the shoulder.

Akaashi hung back a few steps, waiting to either be included or for Bokuto’s dismissal. He wasn’t sure how long he should wait before he continued toward the train station himself.

Finally, Bokuto turned away from the rowdy jumble, a grin aimed Akaashi’s way. “Akaashi! These are my teammates, Yamauchi, Hisahara, and Fukatsu.”

Each grinned or waved in turn as Bokuto made introductions. Akaashi stepped forward to offer a short bow.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Akaashi Keiji. I went to high school with Bokuto-san.”

One of them, Yamauchi, laughed. “He says that like we don’t know.”

“Bokuto talks a lot about you,” Fukatsu said evenly. He was the eldest of the group and the least boisterous.

“Are you going to come watch us practice today?” Hisahara asked.

Fukatsu wacked Hisahara on the back on his head. “They’re heading toward the station, Tsubasa.”

“Not today,” Akaashi said, trying to sound apologetic and not as awkward as he felt, like a stone tossed into running cogs, like he didn’t belong.

“Yeah!” Bokuto added. He had found his way back to Akaashi’s side and bumped into him. “Akaashi has work today but maybe next time he visits.”

Akaashi chanced a smile his way, but Bokuto’s eyes were on his teammates who were back to goofing around again and talking about practice.

“I’ll be there soon,” Bokuto was saying. “Just walking Akaashi to the station.”

“Well you better hurry,” Fukatsu said, and slowly the two groups were separating.

“Leave it to Kou to be late,” Yamauchi said.

Akaashi watched a blush rise in Bokuto’s cheeks as he mumbled some sort of reply amidst his laughter as the three continued on their way.

“You should go with them,” Akaashi murmured.

That caused Bokuto to flinch and look at him.

“I wouldn’t want you to be late on my account.”

“Akaashi, are you sure?” Bokuto asked, smile drooping quickly. “I always walk you to the station.”

Akaashi smiled. Some things about Bokuto hadn’t changed, and there was a comfort in that. Like how all he needed was a smile and reassurance in order to turn a quick dip in his mood.

“Of course, I’m sure,” he said. “I can find my way to the station just fine, but you can’t be late to practice.”

And already those simple words were causing Bokuto to drift away. “You’ll text when you make it back?” he asked.

Akaashi nodded. “And we can set up plans for next weekend, or maybe the one after that. I’ll have to let you know.”

“Make it next week,” Bokuto said firmly, and Akaashi was taken aback. They were talking louder now that Akaashi had started walking backwards, but Bokuto had never had such a strong opinion about their plans before.

Still, Akaashi relented. “Okay, next weekend. I’ll make sure I’m free.”

And Bokuto grinned, giving one last wave before he turned completely and was chasing after his friends.

Akaashi wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he and Bokuto had actually been sticking to their promise. The promise they had made all the way back in March.

It was August now.

Meeting up was easier now that Akaashi was on break. He only had his work schedule to work around instead of classes and studying and his friends at Todai. They got a chance to do this—get coffee, go to a park, shop, whatever Bokuto was in the mood to do—almost once a week. Sometimes it was once every other weekend when Akaashi had a busy week of shifts.

After nearly two years of radio silence, it was almost weird how not weird it was to suddenly be spending so much time together. It clicked, felt normal, just how it used to, and Akaashi would be lying if he didn’t admit how relieved that made him.

On the train ride back, he couldn’t help thinking how easily it could’ve been to miss Bokuto that day back in March. Had that happened, his summer would have looked entirely different.

He’d feel entirely different.

It wasn’t like their meetups brought about any big change to his life—other than the fact that he saved part of his earnings for train tickets. He and Bokuto didn’t talk about life altering subjects or talk too deeply about anything in particular. By now, Akaashi couldn’t even remember what their old conversations used to look like in high school. It was all probably about volleyball.

Which made their current conversations hardly much different.

Bokuto loved talking about his team. He could go on for hours about a single practice. He gave Akaashi the rundown after the matches, the version no one got to see on TV.

Beyond that, Akaashi knew very little of what Bokuto’s life looked like beyond the volleyball court, or if he even had one.

But, in similar fashion, when the conversation turned on him, Akaashi could only talk a bit about class or a book he was reading. His job at the university library was pretty boring, despite how interested Bokuto pretended to be with all his questions.

Mostly, it was just easier to ask him questions about the team.

Sometimes, it was painfully obvious how much volleyball had connected them back in high school and how Akaashi’s recent inexperience now left the distance between them gaping. He had to wonder if they even shared that much in common anymore.

But then, Akaashi would say something and Bokuto would laugh and he’d be reminded how much he liked pulling that reaction out of him. Or making him smile after his mood had soured. Or how he’d find himself hanging onto Bokuto’s every word as he gave a play-by-play of a match.

And Akaashi had thought he wasn’t into volleyball anymore.

He even found himself making time to watch some of Bokuto’s more recent matches. He didn’t play all the time, but it gave Akaashi something to talk about the next time they met up.

However, despite all the times they met up that summer, Akaashi had never walked away from Bokuto with a question half asked hanging in the air between them, forgotten in the interruption of Bokuto’s teammates.

It weighed on Akaashi’s mind the rest of the way home.

It seemed like Bokuto always had something he wanted to tell Akaashi, but he had never prefaced like that before. The kind of way that always sent the person on the receiving end’s stomach into knots, mind racing to supply what they might ask.

Which was what Akaashi’s stomach was doing as he stepped off the train.

What had Bokuto wanted to ask him? It was a couple things, he’d said. And, in typical Bokuto fashion, he’d forgotten to ask on multiple occasions, but that didn’t make what he had to ask any less important. If anything, that made it even more so. Bokuto had a limited attention-span, even after these few years. But this had stuck. This had been something he needed to do.

So, what was it?

Akaashi’s fingers were dragging through his curls before he even realized he was doing it.

He’d have to wait until next week before he could get his answers and that was if he himself didn’t forget.

He could always text in the meantime, but when he’d asked—

_Nuh-uh! It’s gotta be in person!_

That had already proven ineffective.

He stared down at Bokuto's latest message—undoubtedly shot off during a break at practice. It made his chest all tight knowing that Bokuto was still thinking of him even at when he was busy with practice. Volleyball was something that always consumed his time and thoughts. Honestly, Akaashi was flattered he'd taken the time, even if it was just to tell him to wait.

And ever since he'd started seeing Bokuto again, Akaashi found he hated waiting.

He'd always convinced himself that he was a patient person, especially whenever he had to deal with Bokuto. Apparently, that was not quite the case.

"Someone's distracted," a voice half called, half sung.

Akaashi's head snapped up from his phone.

There was Udai, standing next to the steps of Akaashi's apartment building.

It wasn't much of a surprise. Ever since summer had started, Akaashi had much more time to entertain him, so of course, Udai was going to take advantage.

"You know I have to get going to work."

Smiling, Udai stepped up beside him to enter through the doors. "Lucky for you, I was already on my way to the library," he said. "Figured I'd join you."

"Well, it's either entertain you or the kid's program we're hosting today," Akaashi said. "And I can't pick which is worse, so you might as well."

Udai's smile stretched even further as he followed Akaash into his apartment. "Don't act like I'll be breathing down your neck the entire time. I'll be working, too."

It was true. Udai had his satchel bag around one shoulder and a pencil tucked into his low bun. Akaashi had no idea why he'd decided to start growing his hair out. Summer was the worst month to have hair blanketing the back of your neck. All Udai seemed to use it for was to carry his assortment of pencils and pens. He seemed to think it was a _look_. Akaashi thought it made him look unkempt, but who was he to say.

"How's the draft coming?" he asked as he got his things together for work. It was a short shift. He could manage five hours without food. Akaashi opened his fridge and stared. Or could he?

Sighing, he shut it and refrained from packing anything. If things got desperate, he could always convince Udai to help. He was always owing him for something or other. An early dinner would easily repay one of those debts for workshopping his manga. Or, at the very least, something from the vending machine.

"Oh, you know," Udai said as he watched. "Slow."

Huffing, Akaashi returned to the door. "Last time, you told me you were nearly finished with the first volume."

"Yeah," Udai drawled, leading the way back out, "but then I started editing and I'm thinking of scrapping the whole thing."

Akaashi paused, pinching his nose as he turned away to lock up. "I think you should stick with it," he said, dropping his hand before he turned back around. "You already planned out the first arc. You have a general idea where the story is going as a whole. You've been working on it for almost a year. Please don't trash it already."

"Hmm, man, I don't know, Akaashi," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Don't you think I would be honest with you if it was bad?"

"Maybe," Udai said slowly. "That's what friends do after all..." His voice trailed off and the look in his eye made Akaashi's stomach sink. "But you know what friends also do?"

Akaashi squinted over at him.

"They tell their friend when they have a big, fat crush on them," Udai said with a snort. "Now that's what I call honesty."

"What're you talking about? I don't have a crush on you, Udai-san."

At that, Udai actually slapped his forehead. "I'm not talking about me, dummy," he exclaimed into his palm. "Oh my goodness, you do actually realize how dumb you are despite being so smart?" Now he was wheezing into his elbow. "This guy, has a four point oh, always turns assignments in on time, but he's actually dense as a brick."

"Okay, I get it."

"Clearly you don't," Udai said, laughter turning into coughs. "You thought _I_ thought you had a crush on _me_? I'm talking about your volleyball sweetheart! Clearly!"

"I—I didn't," Akaashi sputtered out, in a hurry to defend himself. "I apologize, your phrasing—"

"But you don't deny it."

By that point, Akaashi knew that he must be very, very red in the face. "I don't have a crush on my old classmate, since you've made it clear now that's what you were implying."

Udai threw his hands out. "Oh, come on! You so clearly do."

"He's just a friend. I meet up with plenty of friends," Akaashi said. They were approaching the library. "In fact, I think I see you more than I see him."

Udai waved that off. "Yeah, but you don't really have a choice in the matter." Udai stepped ahead to grab the door. "And weren't you just saying something about honesty and friendship? I totally wouldn't lie about this to you. You've got it bad, my friend."

Akaashi stopped just inside the doors, lowering his voice so they wouldn't garner any unwanted attention. "I assure you, Udai-san," he said, making sure to keep his voice even. "Bokuto-san and I are just friends and I do not have a crush on him."

Udai took a deep breath, but one look at Akaashi's expression and he blew it all back out, shoulders slumping. His glower looked more like a pout. "I'm gonna go find someone to make a bet with and draw some angst," he said before stomping off. "Maybe that way one of us will get something worthwhile out of all this palpable tension. Pining's cliché, Akaashi!" He threw the words over his shoulder, making Akaashi flinch at the volume.

Akaashi bit his tongue, not wanting to call anything back. Besides, Udai was already disappearing into the rows of books, off to find a study hole. At least that put him far enough out of Akaashi's way for the rest of his shift.

Because Akaashi wasn't in the mood to fill the air with empty arguing that didn't mean anything with words that didn't carry any real weight.

Udai was just talking to talk, stirring the pot because he could.

And Akaashi definitely did not have a crush on Bokuto. That was—high school stuff? Akaashi didn't even know the answer to that.

He'd always looked up to Bokuto, had always cherished his friendship. Bokuto was one of those friends that always appeared at his side no matter what back then. Akaashi had had other friends, but it wasn't until his second year that he had even considered that it might be weird that he spent all his free time and lunches with someone who wasn't even in his class. 

And why couldn't he be happy that they were reconnecting again? There was nothing wrong with that. Udai was wrong. Udai was a hermit who didn't understand how friendships worked. He couldn't even pick up the phone when he wanted to hang out. He just came over and found the key Akaashi hid under the mat and walked in.

No, it wasn't right to throw Udai under the bus like that. Akaashi was just frustrated. Maybe it was the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. It lingered long after his time with Bokuto earlier. He just needed to know what Bokuto wanted to talk about. What was wrong with that?

_I made it back. At work now._

He didn't think the text deserved a reply, but Bokuto always gave him one. He sent back an owl emoji. He was probably finished with practice by now. Then a second message.

_I'm glad! Looking forward to next weekend!_

And that didn't really need a reply either.

_I am too._

Then, another owl emoji came in and Akaashi was smiling down at it like some dumb teenager who just watched his ace score a wicked line shot. His ace who shouted along with the crowd and got pumped up just as much as he let his mood plummet.

They were just hanging out a couple times a month. That did not make a crush

And so what if Akaashi did have a crush on him back in high school? He was over that now. Time and distance did not make the heart grow fonder. How could it? Things like that didn't happen in the real world. He'd grown up and learned the importance of a friend in his life, no matter the distance.

Besides, who wouldn't have had a crush on Bokuto back then? Even now, which Akaashi certainly did not.

That didn't stop him thinking about it the rest of his shift. That didn't stop the issue keeping him up late into the night either.

* * *

"So, listen..."

They had barely been handed their coffees and found a seat before Bokuto opened his mouth. His fingers tapped nervously on the edge of his cup. Akaashi's eyebrows raised, stomach clenching. There were the magic words. Bokuto wasn't wasting any time. Maybe he’d been thinking about it all week just as much as Akaashi had. It must've been something important if he was tackling it right away.

And, in Akaashi's experience, talks that started like this didn't always end well.

He slouched a bit in his seat, eyes locked on his coffee.

"I have a question and, well—agh—I don't know," Bokuto continued, face scrunched up to scowl at himself. "Is it weird? Ah man, it's gonna sound weird to ask."

"I won't know unless you ask, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said.

Bokuto took a deep breath, chest expanding, before he let it all out slowly. "Alright. So." The tapping of his fingers was picking up pace. "Here's the thing. So, a couple of the guy—we always chip in together for birthday presents and stuff. Like, we'll go out as a team, buy drinks, throw a big party, you know. And well, they guys gave me my present early. You see, I kinda went home last year, so we didn't get to celebrate. And the guys—" Bokuto chuckled at the thought "—they really went over the top. And you know my birthday is next month."

Akaashi nodded. "I do."

"Well, they kinda got me tickets to go on holiday for a long weekend."

The hold on Akaashi's heart finally released and he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun, Bokuto-san," he said. "I'm guessing you're telling me this because you'll have to miss a weekend? That's fine, you know we don't always have to—"

"No!"

Akaashi sat up a bit straighter. "Uh—"

"No," Bokuto said a bit quieter this time. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes jumping all around, looking everywhere but Akaashi. "It's—you see, the team got me two tickets. And I know it might be too much, since you'd have to take off work. There's also the one train ticket you'd have to get—I mean, I'd totally pay for you if you like." Bokuto was rambling and Akaashi was pretty sure his brain was flatlining, having not in the least expecting the conversation to take such a turn. “But yeah, do you wanna come with me?”

"Uh."

"And I dunno," Bokuto continued, unaware Akaashi had made a sound. "Is it weird? If it's weird, just say so."

Akaashi blinked across the table at him. "But why me?"

"Well, you know, I don't have many friends outside of the team," Bokuto admitted, looking more bashful now than nervous. "And I spend all my time with them—like, way too much."

"Are you sure?" Akaashi asked. He didn't even realize how quiet his voice had become. "You don't have a girlfriend or someone you'd much rather take?"

Bokuto was shaking his head roughly before Akaashi even finished. "Nope. You're the only one I could think of to ask, Akaashi."

Akaashi couldn't even think too hard on it. His brain wasn't cooperating to consider the finer details. "Then, I'd be happy to, I guess. If you're sure," he said. "I honestly can't remember the last time I went on holiday."

Bokuto was beaming, so much so that it seemed to make the entire cafe even brighter than the combined fluorescents and the sun coming through the front windows. "Really? Thanks, Akaashi! Every time I forgot to ask you, I kept thinking I'd have to go alone, but having you there will make it the best trip ever!"

"Thank you for the invite." Akaashi picked up his coffee to hide the bottom half of his face. "You'll send me all the info? I can make arrangements at work."

"You can count on me, and if they don't give you the time off, I'll come in personally and demand it."

Akaashi nearly choked on a laugh and his coffee. "That won't be necessary, Bokuto-san."

And that was how Akaashi ended up on a plane heading for Okinawa two weeks later.

It all happened so quickly. One moment, he was afraid of what Bokuto might ask him, the next he was packing his bags and requesting the days off from work.

He would've told Udai—maybe—but the day Bokuto had invited him was also that same day Udai announced he was hermitting away in his apartment and not to be disturbed. Apparently, he had taken Akaashi's words to heart and was trying to get something together to send out, which meant two weeks of isolation. A marathon of outlining, drawing, and writing.

Akaashi didn't question him on it. Udai would be finishing up just as Akaashi was leaving. If he couldn't wait a few days without bothering him, then Akaashi would just have to text him.

He was also putting it off because he wasn't sure he was ready to hear what Udai might say in response.

To Akaashi's surprise, Bokuto entertained himself just fine during the two and a half hour flight. He played games on his phone and listened to music, leaving Akaashi to read and then inevitably to fall asleep pressed up against the window.

It had been a lazy summer and so Akaashi had grown accustomed to afternoon naps. Plus, the early wake-up wasn't doing him any favors. Akaashi wasn't a morning person when he could help it.

So, he was very much disoriented when he was poked awake an hour later. He had a dry mouth and an oncoming headache, but one look at Bokuto's excited expression as his eyes flicked between him and the view outside was enough to give him the strength to push the discomforts away.

"We're about to land," Bokuto said, and a few seconds later, the entire plane bounced as it hit the ground.

Yawning, Akaashi tucked his book away. "Did you have a good flight, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked.

"Not as much fun as we're about to have."

In Akaashi's opinion, the fun wouldn't start for another few hours. Of course, it was exciting enough to traverse the airport with Bokuto, who liked to look at all the shops and get snacks from the food court before they had taken off. But Akaashi was still feeling groggy and Bokuto was already back to towing him every which way once they were off the plane.

It took more time to find the bus that would take them to where they were staying and then even longer for the bus to make its multiple stops. This time, it was Bokuto who fell asleep, suddenly drained from all the traveling. His head was tipped back in his seat, mouth hanging open as he snored softly.

Akaashi tried to read some more, but he was too distracted. He settled on watching the scenery pass across Bokuto out the window.

He hadn't seen the beaches yet, but the thought of it made him excited. With the stress of traveling fading, he could finally look forward to their three days here, the few days that he'd get to spend with Bokuto with no other distractions. Just for a little bit, they'd be living in their own little bubble. Akaashi couldn't remember the last time that had been the case.

He could however remember the last time he'd been on a beach. It had been quite a few years, back in middle school before his life had been swallowed up by volleyball. It was just a short trip with his parents. They'd never done much traveling as a family.

"Have you thought about what you wanna do today?"

The sound of Bokuto's voice caused him to jump as he turned his head. He had leaned quite a ways into Bokuto's space in order to get a better view outside. Akaashi pulled away.

"It's your trip, Bokuto-san," he said. "I'm pretty sure that's up to you."

"Yeah, but you're my guest," Bokuto insisted. He readjusted in his seat so he wasn't sitting as slouched. "You should tell me what you want."

Akaashi smiled at him. "Then, I think we should unpack first and go to the beach. It's been a long day already."

"What about lunch?"

Bokuto was right. It was already past lunch time and if he was feeling even close to how Akaashi felt, then he must be starved.

"I have something packed," Akaashi said.

"Aw, Akaashi, I should learn to be as prepared as you."

Akaashi laughed softly. "I brought enough for both of us. We can take it to the beach to eat."

"Would you go swimming with me?"

"Sure." Akaashi's smile turned teasing. "And don't think I didn't notice the roundness in your bag. Did you pack an entire volleyball, Bokuto-san?"

Bokuto squawked, causing those sitting closest to them to shush him.

They both stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment before dissolving into quiet laughter.

"Are you judging me, Akaashi?" he asked. "Judging me when half of your bag is filled with books? I bet you won't even be able to get through all of them this weekend."

"I guess it makes sense then," Akaashi said. "The pro volleyball players brings a volleyball and the literature student brings books."

Bokuto grinned widely. "That sounds about right."

Their stop was next, interrupting their conversation.

The inn was small and quiet. It didn't seem to have many other guests. While there was only an older woman on the job and considering the size, it actually seemed to be an expensive inn, if a bit old fashioned and minimal. Bokuto's teammates had put quite a bit of money together to make sure Bokuto was staying in a nice place.

Akaashi had barely set his bag down after being shown to their room before Bokuto was dragging him back to the door.

"C'mon, Akaashi! Let's go start having fun already!"

Akaashi let himself be dragged but shook his head. "If you want to go to the beach, you'll have to change first, especially if you want to go swimming."

"Ah! You're right!" And then Bokuto ran back, leaving Akaashi at the door. At a slower pace, Akaashi followed, going through his bag for his beach things. He filled his drawstring bag with the necessities, including his book, while Bokuto changed.

Then, they were leaving the inn behind and crossing through the dunes to get to the rest of the beach. Like the inn, it was secluded with not too many people around. Honestly, Bokuto was the rowdiest one the moment he set foot onto the sand.

He threw off his shirt right away, threw it over his shoulder, and made a mad dash for the water. So far, nobody else was out there.

Akaashi caught the shirt. It was an action that came rushing back on instinct, which surprised him. He hadn't had to look out for anyone but himself since high school. Even his friends, like Udai, were self-sufficient.

Bokuto hadn't bothered to bring anything else down, so Akaashi chose a spot far enough from the waves that their stuff would stay dry but close enough that Bokuto could easily spot him if he looked.

So far, he was too busy wading out into the water to notice. He had even forgotten about lunch, making Akaashi sigh.

Akaashi laid out his towel and sat down with his book and his own packed lunch, but he watched the water a bit longer before starting in. He took the moment to fully breathe in the briny air. It was peaceful and calm, and he was glad that they had finally made it. He could breathe easy now and just enjoy these few days.

Right? He was here to enjoy himself, to relax. There was nothing to stress about after all.

He watched Bokuto float on his back once the water had reached his chest. Akaashi decided he'd done enough watching and rolled onto his back as well, opening his book.

If he was here to relax, then why was it so difficult to concentrate on anything? If he was here for the calm and peaceful retreat that it was, then why couldn't he stop his heart from beating so quickly?

It was a mystery.

And so, because he wasn't getting any reading done and because Bokuto had specifically asked him, Akaashi abandoned his book and walked to the water.

The waves rushed weakly against his ankles, then his calves. It was refreshing, even after just a few minutes of being out under the August sun. Unlike Bokuto, Akaashi took his time making his way out. He trailed the tips of his fingers in the water and let his body get used to the cooler temperature. Then, when the water was high enough, he dipped under.

Maybe it was the weariness sinking into his bones, but by the time Akaashi sunk into the onsen later that night, there was less anxiety lingering in his chest and his eyes were drooping. It made him grateful for a full day of travel, soaking up the sun, and treading water with Bokuto all afternoon. In fact, it was almost too much trying to keep up.

Bokuto had energy to spare. Whenever he decided he wanted to do something, he was off at a run. He could only manage floating around in the water for maybe twenty more minutes after Akaashi had joined him. Then he was off swimming against the current. Then he decided to go for a run while Akaashi returned to his book. Whichever way Akaashi turned, Bokuto was on his feet, ready to do whatever was next.

Which was hard when they were on holiday. There wasn't much to do other than lay around and try to relax.

It ended up being a more difficult task than either of them first realized.

But, by the time evening settled in and they had returned to the inn, they were both so bone-tired that they couldn't do anything more than sit and catch their breaths in the warm waters of the hot spring.

Bokuto joined him a few minutes after Akaashi had settled into the water.

"You look about ready to fall asleep," he said, laughing.

"It's been a long day," Akaashi said as he stifled a yawn. "I'm amazed you still have any energy left."

"Well, you know me."

"I think it's the whole pro athlete thing and me being an out of shape university student."

"You're not that out of shape, Akaashi."

Akaashi smiled as he shook his head. "Just wait until you try having me hit that volleyball of yours tomorrow. Then we'll see what you have to say."

Bokuto finally sat down, leaning back against the rocky edges not too far away. They were the only two out here and the steam rose off the water, past their heads, and drifted off into the night sky above.

"So, you really haven't kept up with volleyball at all since you graduated?" he asked.

Akaashi shook his head again, sinking further into the water until it swallowed up his shoulders and rose to his neck. "I've been too busy to find a club team on campus, if that's what you're asking."

"Hmm," Bokuto hummed under his breath but didn't say anything more. He dunked his head under and emerged sputtering, raking his hands through his wilting hair.

Akaashi watched him as he tugged out tangles, his face animated each time he found one. "Thank you again for bringing me along," Akaashi said. "I've been having a lot of fun."

Bokuto paused, face brightening. "Really? You have?"

Akaashi nodded. "Of course."

"Well—" Bokuto continued messing with his hair "—sometimes you can be a bit hard to read. I thought it was pretty easy when we were in high school, but now I'm not so sure. So, I'm glad!" He let his hands drop back into the water.

Akaashi allowed himself a small smile. "I don't mean to be difficult."

"No, not at all! I guess—" Bokuto deflated "—I was just thinking, that we used to connect so well with volleyball and maybe what I'm trying to say is that we don't feel as close as we were."

Eyebrows raised, Akaashi opened his mouth, only no sound came out. How was it that Bokuto kept finding things to say that Akaashi just didn't have answers for?

Bokuto slapped both hands to his cheeks. "Agh, what am I saying? I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to come out like I'm trying to ask more of you or more of your friendship. I don't know what I'm saying, I'm just tired and talking. Ignore me!"

As Bokuto sunk lower into the water, Akaashi sat up, watching him closely. As perfect as his life was now, did Bokuto actually wish for the old days like Akaashi did from time to time?

"You can tell me whatever's on your mind, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said slowly. "I won't think it's weird or too much."

Bokuto smile up at him, and there was a hint of melancholy there that Akaashi had never seen in one of his smiles. "That's alright, Akaashi," he said. "Things are just different now. I've just gotta accept that. I'm having lots of fun, too."

"You'll have even more fun tomorrow," Akaashi said. "You can boss me around all day and tell me how bad I am at volleyball."

Bokuto perked up at that. "You'd seriously play all day."

"As long as you want, Bokuto-san. I'll do my best."

Normally, Akaashi would've expected a holiday like this one to include some kind of day trip to visit some local spot, but instead, they returned to the beach on Saturday. neither of them had a preference for what they did, and Akaashi would've been content with reading and swimming the day away.

Except, Bokuto kept his promise and Akaashi was panting and sweating by midmorning.

And once again, to his dismay, the volleyball bounced off his arms at the wrong angle and rolled away. Trying to catch his breath, he stared after it in exasperation.

"Akaashi, you're really out of practice."

"I told you as much last night," Akaashi said, giving in and going after the ball.

Hands on his hips, Bokuto laughed loudly. "I didn't expect your receives to be this bad though!"

"Well," Akaashi huffed, bending down to pick up the ball.

"Hurry up!" Bokuto called. "There's a net over there and I wanna try some spikes. First though, we've gotta get you warmed up.

If only he could catch his breath,

"Yes, Bokuto," Akaashi said, just a touch of annoyance in his tone. He froze. "Bokuto-san."

Bokuto erupted in laughter, clutching his stomach as Akaashi straightened, face blushing red from embarrassment and all the sun. He really hadn't been spending enough time with Bokuto.

"You know," Bokuto said while Akaashi tossed the ball back to him. "You don't have to be so formal. We're not in high school anymore, and even then, you could've just called me Bokuto. If anything, sometimes it feels like you're older than me. Maybe I should start calling you Akaashi-san."

"Please don't," Akaashi said too quickly and the ball bounced off his arms at the wrong angle again. "I'm not sure why you think that, in any case."

"Well," Bokuto started, already jumping to fetch the ball, "You've always been really smart, but now you're a university man. You're learning a bunch of new things. You have your own apartment and all your books and everything. Me, I'm just—" he looked down at the ball in his hands "—I'm still just playing volleyball." He flashed a grin up at Akaashi. "Sometimes it feels like I haven't really changed."

Akaashi looked at Bokuto closely. “Do you really feel that way?”

Bokuto shrugged. “I dunno. Sometimes it feels unreal to be playing pro, but then there are other times, like when I don’t start or when I sit on the bench and I think, is this really that much better than high school?” He sighed and Akaashi hated to see his shoulders droop like that. “I know it’s a waiting game. I just need to be patient is all.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, _I_ think you’ve changed,” Akaashi said, still watching him closely. “Just because you’re still playing volleyball and I’m not doesn’t mean you’re living in the past. When we leave high school, we follow what we’re passionate about. For you, that’s always been volleyball, no doubt about it.”

“And for you it’s books?”

Akaashi gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve always enjoyed analyzing literature. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it just yet once I graduate, but I’ll figure something out.”

Bokuto thought to himself for a bit, spinning the ball between the tips of his fingers as he did.

“So, after high school we just start down the path of things we enjoy and just keep on it?” he finally asked.

Akaashi nodded. “That sounds about right to me.” He didn’t feel like making the mistake of taking the conversation too seriously. Life wasn’t completely about enjoyment, but he liked the sentiment.

“Then that must be why we keep managing to be friends,” Bokuto said, looking up at Akaashi and grinning one of those heart-stopping smiles. “No matter how much time has passed, somehow we always bump into each other again and then—bam!—it’s just like old times.”

There was a familiar sweetness to those words. Lie a dripping nostalgia of days wandering the Fukurodani campus with Bokuto at his side. It made Akaashi’s heart melt to hear him say it.

“I’m glad that’s the case, Bokuto.”

“Me too,” Bokuto said. “You think it’ll always be that way?”

Akaashi felt more of the bitterness mix in on the sweet moment and he forced himself not to pull away from it too fast. “I don’t know if promises like that can be made, but I wish they could.”

Bokuto pinched his lips together. “Hm, you know, I think that’s just about as good as a promise,” he said.

“Well, I’d be happy if that were the case.”

Bokuto’s face blossomed into a smile that once again seized Akaashi’s heart.

_I don’t have a crush._

But it wasn’t Udai who needed convincing.

Bokuto’s mouth opened to say something and Akaashi held his breath, waiting, but then Bokuto’s eyes drifted to the side.

“Whoa!” And in typical Bokuto fashion, something else demanded his attention. “Akaashi, look! It’s a match!”

Turning around, Akaashi found the volleyball net they had spied earlier. The one he’d promised Bokuto could spike over once they’d warmed up. Of course, that’d all been for the sake of Akaashi getting used to handling the ball again. He didn’t think he could live down the shame of sending Bokuto failed sets all afternoon.

Now, the beach court was filled with people, a mini game beginning with three on either side of the net.

Akaashi didn’t need Bokuto to voice his wish. It was already clear.

“You can ask,” Akaashi said.

“Really?” Bokuto was already scrambling off.

“But—” all it took was one word from Akaashi to make him pause “—if we play with them, you have to promise to hold back a little.”

Bokuto’s shoulders slumped immediately. “Akaashi,” he groaned.

“Nobody goes on holiday wanting to get their butts kicked by a pro athlete,” Akaashi said lowly as he caught up to Bokuto. “It’s just a friendly game.”

There was nothing more brilliant than Bokuto playing at one hundred percent. Akaashi had known that even before he’d gone pro. He’d known that back when he was deciding which high school to attend.

And he hated having to hold him back, already expecting he’d have to find a way of cheering him up.

But then Bokuto surprised him.

He smiled. All confidence with just a hint of teasing. “Fine, I’ll hold back,” he said, “but only enough that I still win.”

Then he marched off toward the group, already waving and calling out.

Shaking his head with his own hidden smile, Akaashi followed.

Playing in the sand was hard, even harder than their warmup session just minutes ago. This time, Akaashi wasn’t the only one sweating, skin reddening under the sun. They were all panting and flushed with exertion. He could even see the sweat running down Bokuto’s back. He’d discarded his shirt before the game had begun.

It was Bokuto who had ensured they were on the same team, said he wouldn’t hit anyone’s set but his. And while the guys took it as a challenge, Akaashi was stuck wondering if he should take it as the highest compliment or the premonition to his own demise.

Fortunately for everyone involved, his tosses were hittable at the very least. Their new teammate even complimented him after he scored his first point. Which caused Bokuto to start gushing about all the good times of high school, and Akaashi had to tell him to shut up before he passed out from all the blood rushing to his face.

Konoha had always told him not to compliment Bokuto for fear of him getting a big head. Now it was Akaashi’s turn to be out of practice at accepting Bokuto’s compliments without batting an eye.

How did his high school self manage? _He_ was the one with the crush back then, and yet he had waded through the waters of adolescence without so much as a noticeable blush on his cheeks.

But _now_ the compliments were affecting him? _Now_ , when he decidedly did _not_ have a crush? He was an adult, for god’s sake. He should start acting like it.

“Akaashi, your sets really are the best.”

Bokuto was watching their opponents pick themselves up off the sand after a failed dive to receive his spike, so he didn’t see the way his compliment made Akaashi freeze on his way back to serve.

“I mean—” he turned to look at Akaashi “—your receives could totally use some work and we’ve only done two sets and your feet are already dragging, but still!”

His follow-up remarks helped Akaashi school his face by the time Bokuto had turned to look at him.

“Well, what did you expect,” he mumbled before serving and cutting off anything else Bokuto had to say.

The match wasn’t exactly close. They played four or five sets simply because they could, the strangers rotating to be on what they called the demon duo team. Though Bokuto had promised he’d hold back—and Akaashi was sure that he was trying his best—there was still no doubt that he was leagues and leagues beyond the rest of them. Akaashi only looked good because he was standing next to him.

And then they were at match point. There was no tension in the air, no roaring crowd. They were ten points ahead and even still Akaashi thought back to nationals with Bokuto.

There was no way he could help it. The same serious glint was in Bokuto’s eyes. It returned when all the jokes between serves quieted, right before either team served, and it pulled Akaashi in.

Then, the serve was up and their teammate received it no problem. Akaashi only had to take a step to get under the ball. There was no question who would score their final point.

He felt Bokuto rush past him, felt his eyes on him. He didn’t need to look away from the ball to know. His eyes darted away for a split second to know where to aim.

His tosses hadn’t been perfect all afternoon by any means, but everything clicked just then. Like he was finally starting to understand what Bokuto had been feeling the entire match. What he kept bragging about.

They were in sync. Even if it was just for those few seconds, it was just that easy to watch the ball leave his finger tips and meet the palm of Bokuto’s hand—a beautiful cut shot—and there was no doubt.

In that moment, Bokuto wasn’t holding back in the slightest.

Maybe he was thinking about nationals as well, despite how many more impressive matches he’d played since then, because immediately after the point was scored he rushed Akaashi. His hands gripped Akaashi’s shoulders, shaking him slightly as his breaths heaved out of him, making his head bob closer.

His eyes were alive with the adrenaline, the rush that came with a perfect shot. Akaashi felt it, too.

“That was—”

Akaashi nodded, too out of breath to respond.

But Bokuto didn’t have to finish. They both knew. His hands tightened their grip on him.

That was just like old times.

That was like no time had passed at all.

That was like they had never parted.

That was perfect.

Akaashi knew he was supposed to say something. Bokuto was holding onto him, looking at him expectantly with that fire still burning in his eyes. Akaashi was supposed to say something to make the moment complete, to tell Bokuto good job or something like he always had when they used to play.

But nothing was coming to mind. His brain was void of anything helpful.

How could he tell a pro good job when their skill was so far beyond his own? He couldn’t critique Bokuto’s performance anymore. In fact, Bokuto had taken it upon himself to critique Akaashi instead. So then, what role could Akaashi possibly play?

“You two play on a team or something?”

One of their new friends interrupted the moment. Or maybe the moment had already been over.

Bokuto released him and turned to answer.

“We played in high school but not anymore,” Bokuto explained with enthusiasm, causing the group to chuckle.

“We got that,” one said.

“But do you still play?” asked another. “That’s what I meant. You’re too good just to be doing this for fun.”

Akaashi watched Bokuto’s chest puff out proudly as he explained he was a wing spiker on the national team.

Then there was the back-and-forth. The _no way_ , _holy cow_ responses Akaashi could have predicted, along with Bokuto blushing, fumbling over awkward apologies about playing too rough and them waving it off as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Bokuto glanced back at Akaashi over his shoulder before his gaze returned to the group.

For some reason, his confidence was sputtering out. Something different had been on his face, but Akaashi hadn’t been close enough or studied it longer enough to understand what Bokuto could be feeling.

“Yeah, yeah, the national team,” Bokuto was repeating because the guys could hardly move on from that fact. “I play for a club team, too. Tier three, nothing too great, but a few others are looking at me right now, so who knows where I’ll end up.”

Not too long after, Akaashi and Bokuto were slowly making their way back to the inn. They were sweaty, exhausted, and covered in sand. It was nearly dinner time, too. Akaashi was starving. They’d only had a small lunch on the beach.

By the time they were rinsed off—planning on enjoying the hot springs at a more leisurely pace later—dinner had been brought to their room. It was another perk of the inn that Bokuto’s teammates had provided.

Akaashi was relieved. Though it meant not seeing much of Okinawa beyond their little inn and section of the beach, he didn’t really feel like doing much of anything after the day they’d had. Besides, being here for only a weekend, albeit three days, Akaashi was okay with it not being made into a big thing. He liked relaxing. He liked hitting the volleyball around with Bokuto. He even liked the strenuous games with strangers, so long as it made Bokuto smile.

He especially liked these calmer moments where they could simply enjoy each other’s company.

And stuff their faces, apparently, because that was what they were currently doing.

Akaashi was too hungry for proper manners and Bokuto had never been one to care about that type of thing.

“You know,” Bokuto said, his mouth full, “we were really awesome out there today. You played really good.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi said. His mouth was just as stuffed. “I wasn’t sure I’d be much of a substitute to your current setter.”

“Oh please, you were fantastic!”

“By the end, at least.”

“Nah, you were and always have been the best setter I’ve ever had.”

Akaashi stopped chewing at that. He had to make sure he was hearing correctly.

“You always made time for me, even if I wanted to practice a whole extra hour late,” Bokuto explained. He didn’t even need to think about it. “You cared about how I felt at matches. If I was pissed off or in a slump, you always found a way to get me to play my best, where everyone else would’ve been fine carrying the set without me. The entire match, if they had to.”

It took some effort to swallow down the half-chewed food, but Akaashi did, staring at Bokuto.

“Even today,” Bokuto continued. “You don’t even play volleyball anymore, but you still spent the whole afternoon with me when you could’ve been reading your books.”

“Bokuto-san—”

Bokuto cleared his throat, causing Akaashi to smile.

“Bokuto,” he corrected quietly, “It was my pleasure to spend the day with you in whatever way you wanted. I was happy to play volleyball with you again.”

With a dopey grin on his face, Bokuto leaned back on his hands. “Me too.” Then he sat upright again, smile fading into a more serious look. “Hey, actually, I need to tell you something.”

Not allowing himself to feel the familiar pit of anxiety in his stomach, Akaashi permitted an amused smile to cross his lips. “Okay.”

Bokuto got up to move so that the table was no longer between them. He wasn’t directly beside Akaashi, but their knees knocked together when he sat down. Bokuto looked like he was thinking hard, making some kind of decision that Akaashi could only guess at, but he waited patiently.

"Whenever I'm with you," Bokuto started, "and I’ve told you this before, but there's so much I want to say, and I always feel like there's such a rush to try and fit everything in with the time that we have, but that's just not possible. Half the things I can't even remember to say before you're gone again."

Akaashi reached out, placing a hand on Bokuto's shoulder to stop him before he could go too much longer rambling about nothing instead of saying what he needed to say. "Bokuto," he said gently, "you can tell me anything. We have plenty of time right now and I'm not going anywhere. There's no need to rush."

Bokuto chewed on his lip. "But—"

"How about you pretend we have all the time in the world right here," Akaashi said, interrupting. "Pick the thing you want to tell me the most and we'll start from there, okay?"

In blink, Bokuto was in his space, one hand splayed out on the tatami mat, the other braced on the table. Akaashi's breath caught in his throat as he flinched back at the sudden movement. But then Bokuto's hand lifted off the table, and though the movement was fast, it settled gently below Akaashi's ear, palm along his jaw, thumb ghosting over his cheek.

And Bokuto closed the breath of distance between them, not giving Akaashi a chance to react. Bokuto’s movements were awkward and too fast, but when it came down to it, his breath whispered over Akaashi mouth, and he slowed. Lips ever so slightly parted, they brushed against Akaashi's bottom lip and lingered, a barely there kiss that was more like an echo because it was gone almost as quickly as it'd come.

And then Bokuto was leaning back and sitting where he had been only a second ago, leaving Akaashi staring after him with wide eyes. Bokuto was entirely red in the face and, if Akaashi had to guess, he was, too.

"I'm sorry," burst out of Bokuto's mouth before Akaashi could do anything besides stare. "I just knew if I had to use words, I could never find the right ones, and I'd keep hiding behind words that would never reach you. Not the way I wanted them to anyway."

"You—uh—"

Bokuto ducked his head. "Yeah."

"Really?" Akaashi's voice was barely a whisper. "You like...me?"

"Yeah." Bokuto scratched the back of his head. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

"I, uh."

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way," Bokuto said quickly, avoiding Akaashi's eyes. "I'm sorry I had to show you so forcefully, but I didn't think I could get the words right, and then I’d end up talking about nothing all night instead of what I really needed to say."

Maybe Akaashi was having a similar problem. It was slowly dawning on him that maybe _crush_ wasn't the right word for how he felt and he'd been deluding himself this entire time.

Sitting up on his knees, Akaashi leaned forward, taking his time so Bokuto knew what was coming and could move if he wanted. 

But he didn't. He watched Akaashi lean in, watched him pause just before their noses brushed, and then closed his eyes when Akaashi kissed him back. This time, it was no echo. Akaashi made sure of that.

After a moment, he pulled back but didn't move completely away.

"I don't have the right words either, Bokuto," he said. "I'm only realizing that right now, but I know that I want to stay by your side."

That had always been the case after all. Akaashi just hadn't understood that fact until Bokuto had kissed him just now, and he realized that things couldn't go back to how they were. He didn't want them to. 

It wasn't just nostalgia pulling his gaze to the past along with the comfort of how things used to be. It was every time that Bokuto reentered his life, it somehow calmed his heart. His presence alone helped make sense of everything and shone a light on his absence when he wasn't there. In those moments, it made the hole in Akaashi's life plain even when he thought he'd been getting along just fine.

Bokuto's face couldn't stop grinning. Even when Akaashi leaned to kiss him again, he had to kiss the corner of his mouth unless he wanted to meet teeth. Then, he turned Bokuto's head to kiss the other corner before pulling back again.

Why hadn't he let himself think about this since high school? Was the thought that he and Bokuto would never be in the same place in their lives again so easy to believe?

And now, this alone was simple.

Akaashi sat back, giving Bokuto space once again.

"You know," Bokuto started, "I've had the biggest crush on you since high school. That's how I knew I'd never find a way to tell you because I never could back then. I tried but—" he shrugged "—it never worked. Then, I graduated and I felt like I'd be putting you in a tight spot by forcing the whole long distance thing on you, and that was even if you liked me back."

"I had no idea," Akaashi said with a shake of his head.

"And we fell out of touch and I just never thought things would work out." He was grinning again, wider than Akaashi had ever seen. "But you..."

Akaashi nodded. "I do."

Bokuto bit his lip, which in no way dampened his smile. "Do you think I could kiss you some more?"

And Akaashi had to hide his smile. It didn’t exactly work. "I suppose, but only for a little bit. We still have to wash up, remember."

"Yeah," Bokuto drawled out, already moving in close again, hand on the side of Akaashi's neck. "But this is more fun."

As Bokuto kissed him again, Akaashi was having a hard time finding an argument against that.

* * *

Sunday was the last day of their long weekend in Okinawa, although they didn't exactly get a full day out of it. The morning was spent lazing on the beach, Bokuto sleeping, Akaashi reading on and off, before they had to catch the shuttle bus back to the airport. Their bags were already packed.

It was a morning full of awkward gestures and embarrassed smiles, all of which made Akaashi's heart flutter. This was what he had yearned for in high school. First, awkward romance with clammy hands and bumping noses, only now he was getting all of these firsts as an adult.

Of course, he wished this moment had come sooner, but he was happy enough that it had come along at all.

If Bokuto hadn't made the first move, then Akaashi might have spent forever not understanding how he truly felt. How they both felt.

Because apparently Udai had been right, in his own way. He certainly would think so if he knew. Akaashi was very, very out of touch with his own feelings.

They had an hour or so to wait in the airport. Akaashi was staring down at his book, once again unable to fully concentrate, while Bokuto played games on his phone. Akaashi worried that his battery would die before they touched down in Tokyo. He refrained from using his just in case they needed a phone later on.

It wasn't a long flight, but Akaashi wasn't about to underestimate how much Bokuto could do on his phone.

Bokuto's foot slid over to nudge his and Akaashi glanced down to smile at it, nudging back. Things were just a little different from their flight here. Just a little. He let himself sink back into his seat. They had plenty of time.

Akaashi was just starting to get back into his book when Bokuto's phone went off, a loud, energetic beat that had heads turning in their direction.

Fumbling to answer, Bokuto pressed it to his face with both hands, eyes wide by what he saw on the caller ID.

 _Be right back_ , he mouthed to Akaashi and got out of his seat to head toward the food court.

Akaashi watched after him for a moment, unable to help but wonder what the call was about, but there was no use worrying. He couldn't overhear the call just by wishing for it. So, once the crowd swallowed him up, Akaashi turned back to his book.

He was surprised. He'd brought four books along with him just in case and he hadn't even managed to get through one. They were his summer reading assignments for school, he'd get around to it eventually, but he'd figured with all the spare time laying around on a beach, he'd be more productive.

Well, considering Bokuto, his life had been productive in other ways.

Akaashi had never been bothered by the fact that he was twenty years old without having had his first kiss. Stuff like that didn't matter to him. Dating in general was the same. Either it happened or it didn't. Akaashi wasn't one to force things and he also wasn't one to bother looking up from a book or a school assignment to try. 

Still, the fantasy of having his first kiss on a trip to Okinawa with Bokuto of all people was almost unreal. 

They hadn't spoken about it plainly. They'd both proven they were too incapable of wrapping their own heads around their feelings to be able to put it down into something so complex as words, so Akaashi was having trouble believing last night had happened at all.

They'd figure it all out eventually. They had time. Sure, it might get difficult to meet up every week once school started back up again, but Akaashi could figure something out. Bokuto had made a few trips already that summer to visit Todai and see Akaashi's apartment, though he had yet to meet Udai, something Akaashi was grateful for. Maybe he'd make more trips when Akaashi suddenly found his schedule too hectic with classes.

It'd work out.

When Akaashi looked up again, he found Bokuto returning, walking quickly through the airport traffic. He had a wild look in his eyes, something like excitement, that Akaashi couldn’t quite pin down. The plainest to see was the pride. The way his chest puffed out and his lower lip curled up as he fought a smile. Akaashi saw more and more of it as he neared until Bokuto practically fell into the seat next to him.

“Everything okay?” Akaashi asked as Bokuto gathered himself. He had his phone squeezed between the palms of his hands.

“Uh, yeah?” Bokuto said. One hand reached up to scratch the back of his head. “Sorta?”

Akaashi waited expectantly, giving Bokuto the time he needed.

“So, remember when I told those guys at the beach that some coaches were scouting me? Like coming to watch my games and some of our practices?”

Akaashi nodded.

“Well, that was one of them now.”

“And?” Akaashi prompted. “Good news?”

Bokuto grinned. “Yeah, I mean, there were two coaches that were interested and that was one of them. He kinda…offered me a contract.”

“Bokuto, that’s really great.” Smiling, Akaashi elbowed him in the arm, trying to make Bokuto’s smile grow, but instead, Bokuto bit his bottom lip. His smile became more thoughtful.

“It is,” he said, but he sounded more like he was convincing himself. “It’s the next step for me. I said last night how there were so many things I’ve wanted to tell you, you know? This is one of them. I’ve been thinking of stepping away from the national team. It sucks because they’re so good, but playing on a different level—one just as good—I think will help me get better. It’ll mean I’m playing more, that I’ll have a better chance of becoming a regular for whatever team I’m on.”

“You know no matter what you do, that I’m really proud of you,” Akaashi said. “That’s always been the case, even if I haven’t always been there to tell you.”

Bokuto looked down at his lap, blushing. “Yeah, but this is kinda the first step to that dream.”

“What kind of team is it?”

Bokuto sucked in a breath before raising his eyes to meet Akaashi’s. “It’s a travel team. It’d be similar to a tier two team, which is really good, not the best, but better than the club team I’m on now. There wouldn’t be too many players on the team, so I’d be playing a lot more. The plan is to get a lot of experience out of this contract and then move up to play on a tier one club team.”

His words poured out of his mouth so quickly, saying so much at once that Akaashi nearly missed those first words. Maybe that was Bokuto’s intent.

“Traveling around Japan?”

Bokuto looked away again, hand returning to the back of his head. “Uh, internationally.”

There was a buzz starting real low in Akaashi’s mind, but he spoke despite it. “That’s even more exciting, Bokuto.” Was he talking too fast? Was he breathing enough? Why was he suddenly so conscious of his breathing? “You’ll get to see so many new places. I think it’ll be a really great experience for you.”

Bokuto’s unsureness was melting away little by little. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Akaashi nodded. “Really great.” Hadn’t he already said that?

His palms were sweating, and he was still far too focused on how his chest expanded with each breath he took.

He needed to think about this logically. This was what Bokuto wanted. No, it was what he needed in order to get to who he wanted to be.

Why was Akaashi being so selfish?

“But I’ll be far away again.” Bokuto’s quiet voice punched Akaashi in the chest.

And before he could say anything else, their section was called to board.

Automatically, Akaashi straightened to his feet, not fully thinking about it. His mind was already trying to run away from the conversation. He searched the floor. He had his bag, his phone, his wallet, and his keys. Was there anything he was forgetting? Was there anything he might accidentally leave behind?

He wished he could leave behind this conversation. He almost wished he could forget last night ever happened.

It might be better that way.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning to Bokuto who was still sitting. Akaashi took stock of Bokuto’s things as well.

“Are you alright with that?” Bokuto asked. He made no move to stand. “With me leaving again?”

Frowning, Akaashi grabbed the shoulder of his jacket and heaved him to his feet. “Yes,” he hissed out, quiet enough for how close they stood.

“But—”

“No.” Akaashi’s grip tightened on Bokuto’s jacket, giving it a slight shake as his head bowed until his forehead nearly brushed against Bokuto’s shoulder. The movement hid his face. “I’m not letting you even try choosing between volleyball and me. That’s no decision.” He pulled back, giving Bokuto no choice but to meet his gaze. “You are a star. You are a pro. This is your dream. You deserve not to have any regrets.”

Bokuto’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated. “But what about you?”

Akaashi gave him the best smile he could manage just as their section was called again. It turned out they didn’t have quite as much time as he had expected. He released Bokuto’s jacket.

“Unfortunately, I can’t travel the world with you, Bokuto,” he said. “But I’ll always be here, whenever you come back.”

Still no sight of a smile on his face, Bokuto nodded. Then he was the one leading the way to board the plane, Akaashi only a few steps behind.

And plane ride was quiet, was different than their trip here, only not how Akaashi had been expecting it twenty, thirty minutes ago.

It was quiet getting off. It was quiet walking to the train station. Both of them were trying to think of something to say to fill the space, Akaashi knew that, but each time one of them opened their mouth, nothing came out.

Then, they were at the train station and only in that moment did Akaashi realize that, like always, they’d be parting here to get on different trains. Bokuto was bound for Shibuya while Akaashi had his apartment in Bunkyo City.

When he turned around, Bokuto already had a bright grin on his face. One that gave nothing away from their conversation in the airport. It was so normal looking, like they hadn’t been silent for hours on end, trying to come up with something to say. And he lifted his hand up to wave, his bag over one shoulder, and he kept waving until Akaashi gave him a small smile in return, lifting his hand just slightly in farewell.

Bokuto said a lot over the heads of the crowds, promises that Akaashi had grown so used to believing, over the course of the summer, until they finally said goodbye and turned away.

Akaashi had always feared the day would come when they would part ways for the last time at a train station, that one day, Bokuto would wave goodbye to him one final time. At one point, before last March, he’d thought it’d already happen. But on that August day, he was left wondering, suspecting but not fully knowing that the day had finally come.

Not fully knowing that it would be a very, very long time before he saw Bokuto again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter almost doubled the word count of the previous two chapters combined! I knew what I wanted to do for this chapter, but still, when I saw how much I had written, I was a bit surprised!
> 
> So in thanks for waiting a bit longer for this update, enjoy a longer chapter!
> 
> And thank you so much for all the kind comments and kudos!
> 
> You can listen to the song that inspire this fic and all the chapter titles [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdQRtU5O_I).
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com)  
> [My Writing Blog](http://silentpopp.tumblr.com)


	4. No matter the distance, I'm holding your hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are spoilers for the recent arc in the manga up through chapter 390.

To be fair, they didn't fall into immediate silence after they left the train station.

Bokuto texted Akaashi as he packed. Akaashi tried to make sure Bokuto remembered the essentials as he readied his own bags. While Bokuto was busy going to new practices and meeting new teammates, Akaashi was on a train to spend the last week of his break at home with his parents. He received a few more updates from Bokuto and one call that came in the middle of the night. Akaashi had to keep his voice down so he wouldn't wake his parents.

And then, on the day Akaashi's fall semester began, Bokuto was on a plane to Europe.

They texted back and forth a bit. Once a week, Akaashi found time to sit through an entire conversation of text messages. Bokuto told him about practices and Europe and upcoming games. Akaashi told him about classes and his friends and the job he'd decided to keep at the library.

But then midterms came, and running on no sleep and too much caffeine, a few messages fell by the wayside. A few plans to sit down and talk got pushed aside for cram sessions in one of his friends' apartments.

And, well, old habits started repeating themselves.

The long distance made it easy to fall back into.

The summer had made Akaashi accustomed to having Bokuto constantly shoving his face into Akaashi’s life. Akaashi had taken for granted the constant benefit of being in the same time zone, in the same huge city. And now into his third year, his studies were as busy as ever. Professors were expecting them to do even more work, write more papers, read more books. Akaashi was now in higher level courses where only fellow majors dwelled. There was no easy way out for anyone simply taking a general elective.

Plus, there was the topic of post-graduation, a topic that still made Akaashi's blood run cold. It made his mind spiral into thoughts that kept him up at night. While one part of him demanded to know what he wanted to be, the other part drew a terrifying blank.

Everyone around him was already laying out the path to their dreams. So many of his friends were older and graduating that year or were already out and finding jobs. Udai had started sending out queries with the first volume edited and completed, the rest of the story's first arc well on its way. Bokuto was—well—Bokuto was farther along than anyone Akaashi knew.

So, Akaashi kept his head down, kept churning out good grades, gave Udai critiques when he needed them, and hoped that something would come along if he just kept this up.

And, just by doing that, the next two years flew past.

It seemed dreading something coming to an end was a surefire way of making sure time passed as quickly as it possibly could. However, the idea of university ending didn't frighten Akaashi as much as high school had. Back then, he'd had nothing to compare the brand-new, transitional experience to. Now, though floundering in high water as adulthood stared him in the face, he could at least expect the overwhelmingness of it all

That, and things weren't changing too much. Not really. He would still be working at the library part time. He would still be living in his apartment.

The only addition to his routine once classes ended was the suit hanging front and center in his closet. And interviews were no fun thing, especially when he went into each one not knowing if he really wanted it. Sometimes the rejections made him more relieved than disappointed.

But then, near the end of summer, he found it. The one job that was going to make the entire painstakingly long process of interviews and running around Tokyo in a suit despite the summer heat.

A literary magazine.

He didn't realize until he was reading the job listing how perfect it was. That it was exactly the type of job he didn't know he wanted. That was because Akaashi had never seen himself as much of a helpful person. Beyond his friends, he kept mostly to himself.

It wasn't until he read about it that he thought he might actually fit the criteria, and he might actually enjoy doing it. Because he was someone who could point out the strengths and weaknesses in his friends' performances. He often knew exactly how to get them to perform their best, whether that was on an exam, in Udai's writing, or even...on the volleyball court.

And he'd spent the last four years analyzing just about everything under the sun that was thrown at him in his schoolwork.

He was organized. He actually liked critiquing Udai's work, which would be different to a literary magazine but similar and perhaps even more enjoyable since Akaashi had always preferred written work to manga.

So, he applied. He interviewed, and in the meantime while waiting, he interviewed some more. But every morning when he checked his emails, he looked specifically for that position.

And while he still waited, a week later, Udai of all people had a suggestion.

“I have a contact,” he said over brunch.

Akaashi paused in pulling at the collar of his shirt. He’d just come back from an early interview. It was a loss, not the type of job he wanted and that was if they even offered it to him, which was very unlikely.

His stress was starting to impact his interview performance, he was sure of it.

“I know someone who’s looking to hire a recent grad,” Udai continued. “You know, someone with your background.”

“And you’re just now bringing it up?”

To be honest, Akaashi didn’t have much of a background. He had an unimpressive job at the university’s library, which he’d held for four years. Most of that time he’d spent hiding in the farthest corners trying to get homework done. Which meant he’d been reading. Not the oddest activity to be found doing in a library, but still. He could’ve probably sorted more books or made the head librarian like him better so that he knew more than Akaashi’s name.

Other than that, there were his good grades, his professors’ kind words, and he wasn’t sure what else.

The longer it took to hear from any place he wanted to work at, the more he realized how dismal his CV really was.

And as suspicious as he was of accepting help from Udai—he really wasn’t, he had just grown accustomed to Udai asking for something in return—he would pretty much accept any help he could get at that point.

“Well, I didn’t know about it until yesterday,” Udai sputtered indignantly at the accusation. “You know I don’t work normal people hours.”

“Yes,” Akaashi said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “From the three a.m. phone calls, I am definitely aware.”

“It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

And it wasn’t like Akaashi was a morning person. If anything, Udai made sure of that.

So much for trying to enforce good habits.

“Not like I had to be up at six for this interview today,” Akaashi muttered.

Udai blanched. “What an ungodly hour.”

“So,” Akaashi prompted tiredly. “You know someone?”

“I do.” Udai leaned back in his chair. “It just so happens that the company I’m published through is looking for an assistant of sorts—I dunno if I’d call it an assistant—but anyway, one of my editors told me about it during our meeting yesterday and I thought of you. Didn’t say anything out loud because I wanted to tell you first.”

Akaashi sighed. “So, it’s in manga.”

Udai shifted in his seat. “It’s not _not_ manga.”

It was…close to what Akaashi was going for. It wasn’t perfect. The thought of manga made him cringe a bit, recalling all the times he’d done favors for Udai back in university.

But that meant he had experience. He also had Udai who could speak up for him. It didn’t quite matter that he hadn’t read any manga beyond Udai’s recently published volumes since before high school. It was probably going to be his best bet.

Which meant he couldn’t turn Udai’s proposal down.

“Give me a copy of your CV,” he said, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

And that was how Akaashi ended up getting another interview in less than a week and then a job offer another week later.

He received the rejection email from the literary agency somewhere in between then.

By the time September was in full swing, he was an employed man.

And just like everything else in his life, he didn’t quite get what he really wanted, but after a few months of getting adjusted, it was good enough. Like every other time he didn’t get exactly what he wanted, it still worked out, and life went on.

* * *

“So,” Udai drawled out over the phone, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Typing on his computer in his office, Akaashi had placed him on speakerphone. Even though Udai didn’t work a normal schedule, Akaashi still did, and because he was Udai’s editor, he couldn’t just hit ignore whenever he called.

In fact, Akaashi had been trying to get ahold of him for over a week with no success, only to have him call now right when he was in the middle of something.

“If it’s not about your deadline, I don’t want to hear it.” Akaashi clicked send on the email he had been writing and finally turned his full attention to his phone. He swore his boss only gave them all their own tiny offices because of people like Udai. They were always so chatty, as long as it wasn’t about the chapter they had due.

“Well, I do have that to talk about, too.”

“Then, let’s start with it.” Akaashi stood, stretching his legs and arching his back. Was it already past lunch time? He’d been sitting in that one, hunched over position for five hours. No wonder his neck hurt. “You have a deadline. It’s Monday. I haven’t seen one page of what you’re working on, proving that you’ve made progress since we spoke about it a month ago.”

“Yeah, Akaashi, there’s been progress,” Udai said breezily, adding a quick and mumbled “duh” at the end, which almost went unheard. “But anyway, something’s come up and—”

“It’s Monday.”

“But you’re my gracious editor and you hold all the power,” Udai said, making Akaashi’s face scrunch up instinctively at the begging that was already happening. “I just need a teeny extension. Make it Friday?”

Akaashi turned back to his desk and picked up his phone. Switching off speakerphone, he held it to his ear. “Why?”

He could almost see the smile stretch across Udai’s lips.

“That brings me to topic two—or one—what I initially wanted to discuss with you. I have an extra ticket for an…event—yeah, mmhm—this weekend. I was looking for someone to tag along, but it also means I might not get as much writing done.”

Akaashi cleared his throat.

“You know, like, my last edits and all that,” Udai covered up smoothly. “So, I figured we’d make a trade. I let you come with me—give you the extra ticket—and you give me a slight extension. Just a tiny one, and we’ll call it even.”

Objectively, it wasn’t a bad trade, as long as Udai provided more details on the so-called event. There was only one problem.

Akaashi would give up anything in order to keep his weekends quiet, indoors, and on his couch with the least amount of work sitting on his table as possible.

It didn’t take more than a second for him to settle on an answer.

“No,” Akaashi said. “Deadline still stands. Monday.”

“Okay, deadlines aside, I actually really want you to go, Akaashi.”

Akaashi paused, waiting for the explanation.

Udai let out a breath. “There’s this volleyball game. Matchup of the century—”

“Please limit the exaggerations, Udai,” Akaashi cut in gently. “I have to edit plenty enough out of your work.”

“Tsk, well, it is. It’s gonna be this super awesome match. Full house, guaranteed.”

“Then take one of your friends from your club team.”

“Okay, but like—” Udai seemed to be at a loss “—uh, rice balls!”

Akaashi blinked at the opposite wall of his office. Udai didn’t fill the empty air. Akaashi frowned at the phone. “Was that you stubbing your toe? You know, I took you off speaker—”

“No, you like rice balls, and you _really_ like that one onigiri place”

“Onigiri Miya,” slipped from Akaashi’s slips before he could help it.

“What if I told you they’d be there? What if I told you I’d treat?”

Akaashi stared at the wall a moment longer. “It’s a bit odd that you’re trying to get me to a volleyball match, but you’re tempting me with the concessions that will be there.”

“It would be odd,” Udai agreed, “except you and I both know it’s working.”

Akaashi sighed through his nose and sat back down in his chair. “When and where?” he asked.

“Dude, you are the best,” Udai said and Akaashi could imagine his grin.

“I didn’t say I’d give you an extension.”

“Yeah, well, that’d be pretty sweet, too.”

“Are you that far behind?”

Udai didn’t answer, causing Akaashi to sigh again.

“I’ll give you until Wednesday,” he finally relented. “If I don’t get it by then, _I’ll_ be the one getting heat by those who really hold the power.”

“I’m texting you everything you need to know right now,” Udai said quickly. “Don’t you worry, Akaashi. I’ll make sure all the trouble is worth it.”

Akaashi snorted. He wasn’t sure how volleyball was exactly going to do that. Oh well, he probably needed to get out of the house one way or another.

It wasn’t until later that night that Akaashi finally had time to sit down with his laptop, googling just what kind of volleyball match Udai was dragging him to that weekend. He’d just finished dinner and some show reruns were airing quietly on his television. It helped to have background noise when living alone. He’d found that out early into his first year at university.

Akaashi barely got one search result in before he was calling Udai again.

The thing about their friendship was that they were no longer apologetic about calling at weird hours with no warning. It was a habit Udai had dropped back in university, but it was something more recent for Akaashi. Ever since working with Udai as his editor, there was no telling when the man would be asleep. He’d wasted so much time his first month of work waiting for Udai to text him back that he could take a call.

Well, things weren’t too much different now. If Akaashi called during work hours, it was only a fifty-fifty shot that Udai would answer, but any other time, he’d pick right up.

Just like he did now.

“It’s a Division 1 match,” Akaashi said over Udai’s mumbled hello. “You didn’t tell me it was Division 1.”

It took Udai a second to catch up. “So?” he asked. Akaashi couldn’t tell if he was groggy from sleep or groggy from pulling an all-nighter the night before. “Wait, _that’s_ what you’re worried about?”

Akaashi was still scrolling through the website. “ _And_ it’s in Sendai? Udai, that’s—”

“Two hours by bus,” Udai finished for him. “Again, so?”

Akaashi collapsed back into the couch. “That has to be an expensive ticket for such a match. I know you said it was a big game, but I didn’t think you had two tickets to a professional volleyball match sitting in your pocket.”

“They’re in my wallet actually,” Udai corrected, beginning to sound more attentive. “My apartment’s a wreck, but—sheesh—give me more credit than that.”

“You have to let me pay you back.”

“Hey, no way,” he said quickly. “ _I_ didn’t pay for them, so why would I make you? I mean, the train ticket’ll be pricey enough, but that’s no big deal for you, right, boss man?”

Akaashi slouched down farther in his seat. “I’m not your boss, Udai.”

“I know. You’re my editor, which is basically the same thing,” Udai said, laughing lightly.

“Alright,” Akaashi sighed. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize it was such a big game.”

Udai didn’t say anything for a second. Akaashi wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep or was thinking, but either way it made him suspicious.

“What,” he said flatly.

“Nothing,” Udai piped. “Nothing. That’s it? You didn’t call to gripe and complain about anything else?”

Akaashi scrolled back through the website. “Should there be?” he asked, a warning note in his tone that Udai had had enough practice to pick up on.

“Nope, absolutely not. Hey, my suggestion—and it’s just a suggestion—you should stop googling. Just chill out, don’t worry, and let me take care of everything. Then, I’ll see you in two days.”

“Udai.”

“What, I’m serious! You overthink things, and the last thing I need it a two-hour bus trip with a total grump.”

Akaashi tapped his thumb against the space key before he relented and closed the tab. “Are you getting much work done?” he asked.

“I _was_ until somebody interrupted.”

Huffing out a laugh, Akaashi shook his head. “I’ll let you go then. Make sure to get _some_ sleep. Pulling all these all-nighters back-to-back will make _you_ a pain this weekend.”

After hanging up with Udai, there wasn’t much else to do that night. Akaashi had already gone over some work he’d brought home with him, just a few chapters that needed his approval before they were sent on up the ladder. In all honesty, he was about to close his laptop and finish the episode on TV, but a thought stopped him.

Because Akaashi hadn’t thought so much about volleyball in nearly three years. Or at least, he’d done a lot thinking about not thinking about volleyball. He hadn’t even seen any of Udai’s club games.

So, he had to wonder, what would Bokuto say if he knew Akaashi was going to watch professional volleyball match? Would he know the team? Would he know any of the players? Akaashi thought about it a second more. Would _he_ know anyone on the court?

He considered all of the expert volleyball players he’d played with and against way back in high school. So many of them had been determined to go pro. So many of them had the potential to make that dream happen. That in mind, it was very, very likely Akaashi might see a familiar face or hear a familiar name.

Before he knew it, he had the laptop on his lap and opened back up to the website. There had to be a schedule on here, the teams, the rosters. He was going to find out now rather than be blindsided.

Udai be damned, Akaashi was going to dig deeper.

* * *

The few days separating him from the weekend were simultaneously the longest and shortest time of his life. Sometimes, when Akaashi checked the time on his computer at work, the time flew by and suddenly it was another day over and time to go home. Another day gone that had stood between him and this inevitable volleyball game. Then, he’d be at home watching TV and it would take hours for the minute hand to move an inch.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that he couldn’t decide whether he was dreading the weekend or excitedly anticipating it.

He hadn’t picked up the phone to call Udai since. Even though, at work, he needed updates on his chapter. He needed to be assured that Udai would have something completed to turn in on his new due date—something Akaashi now regretted permitting him.

The thing was, the volleyball game wasn’t inevitable. It wasn’t inevitable that Akaashi attend. Udai could always find someone else, Akaashi was sure.

Those were the thoughts that automatically entered Akaashi’s head when his alarm sounded Saturday morning. But he only hesitated hitting snooze for a second before he shut it off.

That was just the anxiety, the cowardice of facing things head-on. It wasn’t how he really felt, not if he didn’t immediately flinch away from the thought of confrontation. No, more than anything, he wanted to see a good volleyball match. He wanted to see familiar faces. For just an afternoon, he wanted to go back to those times and enjoy himself.

And above all, he wanted to see the star he’d spotted way back in middle school and just how much brighter it shone now.

If he thought about it long enough, it was an undisputable fact.

So, after a moment of lingering in bed just a minute more, Akaashi got up to face the day.

He was meeting Udai at the train station, which would be the first confrontation he’d encounter, though any others were highly unlikely to happen. With a stadium full of people, those he’d recognize would surely blend in. And meeting anyone who played on the court…

Well, that was even more unlikely.

Udai caught sight of him and recognized his expression right away the moment they spotted each other through the crowd. He offered a smile and a wave. He passed Akaashi a train ticket.

“You can pay me back if you want,” he said. “If not, consider it a bribe. I don’t feel like being chewed out for anything other than my deadline today.”

“I wouldn’t even bring up your deadline if I were you,” Akaashi warned. “Push your luck and I might bring it back to Monday.”

Udai’s jaw dropped before he followed after him toward the train. “You wouldn’t.”

Honestly, Akaashi might have, but one look at Udai and even he couldn’t be that cruel. His hair was an unruly mess, but then again, it always had ever since he’d decided to let it grow out. The bags under his eyes were something that were always present as well, but today they were unmistakable.

“Take a nap,” Akaashi said as they found seats. “You’re making me tired just looking at you.”

Scoffing, Udai brought his bag to his lap. “Oh Akaashi, I brought my work just to appease you, to prove that I’m serious about getting done before Wednesday.”

“Smart,” Akaashi muttered, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

He waited a moment, watching other passengers board and walk past. Udai seemed to be digging into his notebook, scribbling as he leaned over it.

Akaashi sighed.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

Udai’s pen paused. He looked up. “Warn you of what?” he asked, face completely innocent and blank, but a second later even he couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at the corner of his lips. “Is there something I should’ve warned you about?”

Akaashi frowned.

“Did you need to be warned that some of the guys you played against in high school have gone pro? Because I thought that was common knowledge. Even you were an accomplished setter in your day, so it shouldn’t be a surprise so many others have gone even beyond that stage,” Udai went on, causing Akaashi’s frown to deepen in annoyance. “Because that’s the only thing I could think of that you might want to know. Because you wouldn’t need warning of a specific player, a specific Black Jackals outside hitter, Mr. _I don’t have a crush_. That is what you said the last time we spoke of this, right? It was a number of years ago, so my memory might be foggy.”

Akaashi stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly opened. Udai raised his eyebrows as he tapped his notebook with his pen.

“So, I think you mean, _thank you, Udai-san_. If it weren’t for me, I don’t think you would’ve seen him again.”

The last time had been in Okinawa, which was also the last time Akaashi had played with him. The last time he’d seen him play in a real game though…that would’ve been even longer, and from behind a computer screen. Akaashi didn’t know why but sitting down to watch him on his laptop ever since they’d parted just seemed so unbearable.

But there was no running away today.

And Akaashi was okay with that. After all, he was only watching from the stands. He wasn’t standing on the court with him. He wouldn’t have that beaming smile aimed his way. There would be no kind of confrontation. He had no reason to be nervous.

“Alright,” he finally murmured. “Thank you, Udai. Get back to work.”

Udai smiled and settled back into his hunched position. “Yessir.”

Even outside, the stadium was packed, though everyone was heading in one direction. Akaashi and Udai were right on time, which meant they were late, in Akaashi’s opinion. The stadium was huge and it made him feel like he was in high school again. The nerves returned on instinct and he had to berate himself to make them go away. It wasn’t like he was playing some important game. He was here to have fun. So instead, he made his earlier excitement return, which was a weak and nauseating echo of what it should’ve been.

“Should we head straight to our seats?” Udai asked once they were inside. Distantly, they could hear the home team being announced. It was muffled and Akaashi couldn’t quite hear the names.

However, he could clearly hear his stomach growl. “You go ahead. I’ll get lunch and meet you before the first serve.”

“If you say so,” Udai said with a shrug. “You want me to come along? I did say I’d treat.”

“No, I don’t need you racking up the total of things I owe you,” Akaashi grumbled. “You already got the train ticket, I don’t need you coming to me next month asking for another extension.”

“Ah.” Udai grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “Caught in the act.”

While he headed for stadium seating, Akaashi turned toward the vendors. They were practically courtside once he found them, and there were so many. It was all quite different from high school, even nationals.

This wasn’t just a tournament where the main focus was the students. This was an event. This was where everyday people came on their days off. They came for lunch, they came to see professionals play their very best, and they came to have a good time. And the professional players—they weren’t just here to see how far they could go. That was expected. No, this was their careers, their art. They were here to play to the best of their abilities, to reach greater heights and beyond

Where high school had a clear end, the professional season plateaued in a way that opened up the game. There was strategy between matches, between who started, and that could shape an entire team.

Unlike high school, one loss wasn’t the end of everything.

There was time, and it opened up so many doors. With that time and experience, nobody was going to look like they had in high school. This kind of volleyball was altogether different than the kind Akaashi had played.

Even standing among the vendors watching the teams warm up, looking up at how high the stadium roof extended over his head, Akaashi felt like he was treading water.

His stomach growled again and he shook himself out of it. Right now, he had eyes for only one thing.

Miya’s Onigiri.

The first set began and Akaashi kept an eye on it over his shoulder as he waited in line, already preparing for the first familiar face.

It was—weird, sizing up Miya Osamu, and for another split second, it felt like high school again. But then he gave his order and made idle chatter and suddenly they were boring adults once more. Akaashi quirked a smile at that.

It was also weird turning to see Miya Atsumu serve while waiting on his order.

The serve was called out. Akaashi couldn’t quite see from his position, but Osamu was already shaking his head.

“That dork.”

The comment was muttered, only Akaashi could really hear it, but Atsumu’s head swung around so fast on the court, glare aimed in their direction. In that second, Akaashi felt the invisible barrier between the stands and the court shatter. For the first time, he felt visible, not able to simply disappear in the crowd.

Twins were just scary like that, he supposed.

He refused to look too carefully at the court after that. He accepted his onigiri and went to find Udai. He was not going to peer over heads to look for him like a small child. He’d have a vantage point up in the stands. Then, he’d be able to see. Then, he’d be far enough from the court to not be seen.

“Before the first serve,” Udai repeated when he saw Akaashi sidling through their aisle. “Yeah right. The match already began.”

“I caught the first serve,” Akaashi countered, sitting down. He handed the second bag of food to Udai, which he gratefully accepted. The bags under his eyes were hardly noticeable now. It was like the game had woken him up. He looked excited.

Akaashi could relate. The entire atmosphere had his heart pounding. For the first time in a long time, he felt giddy excitement. Finally, he found he was happy to be here.

“Did you see the freak quick with Atsumu and Hinata?” Udai asked, talking quickly. “It was amazing. Reminded me of when I first saw that kid play in high school.”

“It was different,” Akaashi observed. His eyes skittered across the court, too quickly to really take anyone in, too quickly to see the players on the court. “It was ever faster. Nothing’s like high school anymore.”

“Oh really,” Udai chuckled snidely.

Before Akaashi could ask him what he meant by that, a clap interrupted his thoughts. It was followed by a second clap and each clap following grew louder as the fans joined in. Looking absolutely delighted, Udai clapped along, his eyes back on the court.

Akaashi turned to look as well and what he saw melted away any argument he was just about to start.

His eyes zeroed in on the one player he had been so desperately searching for but simultaneously refusing lock onto. But now, there was nowhere else in the entire stadium he could look at besides him. Nothing else could pull his attention away and that was because Bokuto Koutarou had demanded it, just like he did every other time.

The laughter bubbled out of him at seeing Bokuto’s big grin as the entire stadium clapped along with him, an apparent pre-serve ritual that only Bokuto could pull off.

There was something different about him, but then again, something not so very different at all. Akaashi couldn’t quite tell being so far away. And while the clapping continued in the stands, the whistle blew for Bokuto’s serve. Akaashi wished he had a closer look at his eyes. He could feel the silliness flip to intensity so suddenly and saw a serve so powerful that he had to remind himself that this wasn’t some high school tournament. This was division one volleyball. Every man on that court was a monster.

“So?” Udai prompted.

Akaashi’s eyes didn’t leave the court. “So what?” He pulled out his onigiri.

“Who do you think is gonna win?”

Scoffing with his mouth full, Akaashi shot him a look. “I have no way of knowing that. I’ve seen maybe half of the guys down there play before, and none of them are even close to the same player as back then.”

Udai rolled his eyes. “Oh please, it’s not like I’m asking you to bet money on it. C’mon, give me your honest opinion.”

“Hmm.” Akaashi watched another volley go by before it was Hinata’s turn to serve, an impressive jump serve that was just a hair out.

It was kind of sweet to see Hinata all grown up, especially thinking back to those summer camp days. Then nationals, seeing Hinata gaping on the sidelines as he watched Bokuto play. Akaashi smiled as Udai gawked at the serve, probably drawing up his own comparisons.

“The Adlers are favored to win,” Akaashi finally said. “But the Jackals are keeping up. They’re only one point down.”

Udai nodded. “Sure.”

“Hm, if I had to call it right now—keep in mind we’re in single digits in the first set—”

“Stop hedging.”

“—I’d go with the Jackals.”

Udai’s eyebrows rose as a smirk pulled on his lips.

“Being the underdog counts for quite a bit when you’re considering,” Akaashi continued.

“Even with heavy hitters like Ushijima? Then, of course, there’s Romero. Kageyama has proven to be a genius player. _I_ know that and I only saw him play in high school. There’s also—”

“You could list every player down there,” Akaashi said. “They’re all good players, but you have a different team out there with Barnes out and Hinata in for his first match. You heard the announcer, first match back in the country since high school. That makes him a dark horse. An unknown factor, which is exactly what gave him an advantage back in high school, back when he wasn’t such a well-rounded player.”

Udai hummed in consideration. “That’s true. Replace a player like Barnes with someone like Hinata and you’re bound to have an entirely different team out there. Wait a minute—” Udai turned to look at Akaashi “—I didn’t think you watched much volleyball.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “I didn’t suddenly become dumb about volleyball just because it’s been a few years.” Shaking his head, he reached for his second onigiri. “I can’t say for the winner, but the Black Jackals are going to take the first set. They have the most to prove being the underdogs and they hold the most unknowns. Until the Adlers adapt and figure them out, they’ll have the upper hand. I’m sure it won’t take long, but it’ll be enough for the first set, I think.”

“Well, I’ll definitely agree they have some wild cards. Hinata, Atsumu, Bokuto—” he inclined his head toward Akaashi who scowled “—but while they can have their highs, they can just as easily crash and burn on their lows.”

“You have a point.”

“It’s a mixed bag, but sure, I’ll take the Adlers. They’re a more dependable team.”

“You said we weren’t betting.”

“We’re not.” Udai grinned. “But it makes it more fun.”

Akaashi scoffed. “Alright then. Dependable’s boring.”

Udai mocked surprise and laughed. “See? Getting you to trash talk? Highlight of the day. And look who’s talking. _Dependable’s boring_. Who even are you? The Akaashi I know isn’t one to take such risks.”

“I’m saying who I think will win based on my outdated volleyball knowledge.”

“Yeah, but—” Udai eyed him meaningfully “—I think your choice speaks for itself.”

Akaashi turned back to the match. “Well, it’s what I think.”

“You should tell him so after the match,” Udai said in a quieter voice.

Akaashi was too busy watching Bokuto score setpoint to come up with a good reply. He was squinting, trying to get a better look at that smile. “We’ll see about that,” he murmured, but he wasn’t so convinced.

The Schweiden Adlers took the second set, as Akaashi predicted. Volleyball is a long game of figuring out your opponent. Winning the first set didn’t seem to create as much momentum as it used to, Akaashi thought. He remembered the beginning games of tournaments, when taking the first set was just a precursor to the next. But the more skilled the team you were up against, the less that first set started to matter, especially when some games went until five sets.

So, it was no surprise to see the genius Kageyama help bring his team to set point next.

Like Udai said, he was dependable, like the rest of his team, but that was crucial for a setter. The spikers knew without a doubt that the ball would come to them exactly how they wanted it, giving them the best chance to make that point count.

That made players like Hoshiumi, who were experts at midair battles, even more dangerous.

The Adlers took the third set as well.

“It’s certainly a nail-biter,” Udai said as the teams switched sides.

Akaashi hummed in agreement.

“If the Jackals lose this set, it’s all over.”

“They were really starting to pick up Ushijima’s spikes near the end of that last set,” Akaashi said.

He’d thought for sure they’d see the Jackals lose some morale once the Adlers had gained momentum, Romero pushing past and scoring impressively every time they tried to cut him out of the attack. Kageyama’s back-to-back service aces, Hoshiumi weaseling through blocks like none were there in the first place, and Ushijima’s spike that, even if you could get a hand or some body part on it, it was nearly impossible to return it to Atsumu cleanly.

But even when the Adlers pulled away, the Jackals were undeterred.

It was one thing to understand the expertise of a pro, it was another thing altogether to watch it happen. To watch them hold their heads up, to call out to each other, to hold together as a team and figure out the next move.

Akaashi could’ve sworn he was just beginning to see it come together as the third set ended.

Even Bokuto still wore that smile between sets, always a buoy of morale, but Akaashi didn’t once see frustration shut him out. Not when he served the ball into the tape, not when blocks shut him out twice in a row. He shook it off and called for the ball again.

It was like a hand tightly squeezing Akaashi’s chest. If someone had asked him before this game if he thought Bokuto had his same meltdowns on the court, Akaashi would have said, _Of course not_. But now seeing this new levelheadedness, remembering the games years ago he’d watched from his computer. Watching Bokuto sit out games, watching him wonder if he was where he should be. And seeing him now, a starter, a backbone for his team. It was like he had shed all of his bad habits from high school. He didn’t need anyone to hold him up anymore because he had his team and his team had him.

Akaashi wasn’t sure why that realization filled him with such a bittersweet feeling of pride.

“I think they’ll pull it off for five sets,” he continued and Udai agreed. “But then the Jackals will take it for sure.”

Because the Jackals were an equally dependable team.

They were strong, full of players that had proven they were capable of standing alone, which made them all the more powerful now coming together.

And, just like Udai had said, it was a nail-biter down to the very end, a race to see which team could earn consecutive points and win.

And, just like Akaashi had thought, just like he had begun to believe the longer the match went on, the Black Jackals won.

The crowd was ecstatic at the upset, the narrow victory. The fans cheered for five worthy sets. It was certainly a game to be remembered. It had everyone lingering in the stands, chatting excitedly with their neighbors, whether they were friends or complete strangers, everyone had something to say about the match. Below, the teams shook hands, gathered in their huddles, and eventually left the court to allow the cleaning to begin. Those that had left the stands crowded in the lines of vendors, grabbing an early dinner or something for the trip home.

“It really was a fantastic game,” Udai said as they stood there, lingering like everyone else. “Aren’t you glad I made you come?”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Akaashi said with a slight smile. His heart was still racing. He’d never realized he could miss volleyball this much. He’d never realized he could miss watching Bokuto play. It was starting to feel like it had that first week after he’d left. Akaashi was starting to feel that aching void in his life again.

It wasn’t fair. It had been such a good game. He didn’t want the memory to be tainted by such feelings of longing, feelings like nostalgia.

“But I am grateful you asked me to come.” He stared down at the empty court that Bokuto had played on just minutes ago. His heart felt so full being able to see him like that again, playing to his full potential, giving everything one hundred and twenty percent. So much had changed since the first time Akaashi had seen him play as kids, but one thing hadn’t.

Bokuto was still a star—no, he’d become the star that Akaashi had always known he was capable of being. He shone so bright that Akaashi was nearly blinded by it.

This was what he needed. Not the faded, uncertain goodbye from before, but something like this that felt final. Maybe this could bring some closure, and Akaashi could step forward into the future without the constant need to look back over his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to Udai. “Are you ready to go?”

Udai gave him a puzzling look but nodded. “Sure.”

They made their way through the stands and down the steps. The crowd around them moved sluggishly. Everyone was of the same mind, slowly moving to leave because they all knew the spell would be broken once they got in their cars or boarded the train to go home. This overwhelming feeling, the feeling that you could do anything, that an underdog could win over the favored team, it would fade into an echo, and years later, would they ever remember the feeling so clearly? Would they ever feel it again?

Akaashi knew because he felt it, too. This unwillingness to say goodbye and walk out those doors. But it was the only thing he could think of to do.

“You can go ahead if you want,” Udai said. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

Akaashi blinked between him and the crowd that buzzed around them. “You don’t want to wait until we get to the train station. Won’t be as crowded there.”

“Nah, but like I said, you can go ahead if you want.”

Sighing, Akaashi followed him over to the corner where the restrooms were. “I’ll wait here.”

Udai shot him a thumbs up before he was off into the crowd.

Akaashi leaned back and watched the crowd. The vendors were within sight. Plenty of people were lined up, still looking for snacks and last-minute souvenirs. There were a lot of kids running around, too. Akaashi recognized them as the junior league that had gone on with the teams earlier. Two called out excitedly and ran forward. Akaashi’s gaze followed them to the rest of their team. He caught sight of the Black Jackals’ jersey. Blinking, he recognized Atsumu and Hinata. Standing so close, he could see how much they’d grown up, though their mannerisms said otherwise.

Atsumu wore a pained expression, exaggerating something with his hands as some of the kids stared up at him blankly. Beside him, Hinata looked as though he was reenacting a spike in slow motion for the kids. They stared up at him with awe while a couple others bounced with excitement, questions bubbling out of their mouths.

Another Black Jackals jersey passed by, causing Atsumu to call out, but Sakusa merely waved him off as he headed for the exit.

Akaashi chuckled to himself. They were a strange team, seemingly so cohesive on the court but so out of sync in the real world.

Then, he heard it, the sound that made his heart still.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

The kids squealed, and the swarm separated from Atsumu and Hinata, locking onto someone that could match their energy.

Akaashi kept his stare straight ahead stubbornly. He’d already made his goodbyes. He’d already decided that the match was the end of this—whatever this feeling was. It was finally time to move on.

“Ready?”

Akaashi flinched, Udai appearing beside him suddenly.

“What?” Udai asked, looking around until he found the object Akaashi was so obviously avoiding. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi said. “I’m ready.”

“You should go say hello,” Udai said so softly that it was almost lost in the crowd.

Akaashi glanced at him. “Why?”

“Because otherwise he won’t know you were here. And I think it’s rude to sneak past someone important in life without giving them the chance to see you, too,” Udai said. He always got long-winded when he was trying to make a point. “Relationships—friendships or otherwise—are a two-way street. Before you go making decisions, give him the common courtesy to see you the same way you’ve been seeing him all afternoon.”

“You write too much cheesy manga,” Akaashi grumbled before stepping forward, his movements stiff. He didn’t have to turn to see Udai’s smile grow.

“I’ll wait outside for you.”

Akaashi tried not letting his shoulders slouch as he walked over. Hadn’t he already ruled this confrontation out? It hadn’t just been to make himself feel better about going to the match. He had honestly thought it’d be impossible to run into Bokuto. And now he was going to end up interrupting these kids. He gritted his teeth.

“Bokuto-san! Bokuto-san!” The kid waved his arm like he was in school. “When you took that spike to your chest, didn’t it hurt?”

“Didn’t it knock the breath out of you?” Another added, causing the first to nod vigorously.

“Of course not!” Bokuto bellowed, pounding a fist to his chest. “I’m a pretty tough guy, you know.”

“Whoa,” the kids said in amazement.

“It happened to Hitoshi and coach had to sub him out!” said a third kid. “But you didn’t even fall down! Even though it was Romero’s spike!”

“Yeah!” the other two chimed in.

Bokuto scratched at his cheek, suddenly a bit more bashful. “Volleyball is a sport where you can’t let the ball hit the ground. So, when your hands can’t move fast enough—” a grin stretched across his face “—you have to make do and get the ball to your setter.”

Before the kids could ask another question, Akaashi stepped up behind them.

“Bokuto,” he said. “Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looked up, eyes widening cartoonishly, as the kids spun around at the distraction.

Akaashi could feel his face heating up as Bokuto straightened after leaning down for the kids.

“Akaashi?”

He offered a slight bow to Bokuto and the kids. “Sorry for the interruption.” His eyes landed back on Bokuto and he gulped. “It was a good game. You were very impressive out there, Bokuto-san.”

Growing bored quickly, the kids ran off as Bokuto stepped forward, grabbing the sleeve of Akaashi’s sweater.

“Akaashi, you came?”

He was still staring at him owlishly and Akaashi smiled, glad that some things didn’t change even if standing in front of Bokuto right now still felt a little bit like standing in front of a stranger.

“My friend had an extra ticket,” Akaashi explained, glancing away. “He invited me.”

“Ah, man.” Bokuto released him and brought the palm of his hand to his forehead. “If I’d known you’d be here, I would’ve played five—no—ten times better.” He spread out all ten fingers between them and Akaashi laughed into his fist.

“But you played very well,” Akaashi said.

Bokuto’s smile beamed down at him and it felt too warm, like he was standing under a spotlight. He’d been so comfortable hiding in the stands.

Bokuto opened his mouth to say something the same time as Akaashi said, “My friend is waiting for me.” He cut himself off awkwardly, realizing he’d interrupted whatever Bokuto was saying. Bokuto’s mouth closed slowly, lips pressing together. “I should probably go. I just wanted to say—uh—good game.”

Taking a deep breath, Akaashi turned to the front door. The crowds were thinning. It shouldn’t be too hard to find Udai outside.

In a flash, Bokuto caught his wrist, but the second it locked around him, his hand was gone, the movement just enough to make Akaashi pause. He turned back. Bokuto was still smiling. Was it his imagination or did it look forced?

“Let me walk you out.”

Akaashi glanced around for Atsumu or Hinata, but he found no other Black Jackals in sight. “Won’t your team miss you?”

Bokuto was already leading him forward, waving and smiling at congratulatory calls from fans. Unable to hide his blush at the attention, Akaashi hurried to keep up.

“No, we’re dismissed for the day,” Bokuto said, turning his head so that Akaashi had his full attention as they walked. “Coach already gave us his wrap-up. We’ll probably go over the game more tomorrow at practice.”

“Ah, I see,” Akaashi murmured quietly. Bokuto rushed forward to grab the door.

“What does your friend look like?” he asked, head swiveling around as they stepped outside.

_A mess_ , Akaashi wanted to say, but he only snorted quietly to himself. He didn’t see Udai right away, so he pulled out his phone.

“I don’t see him,” he said to Bokuto as he looked at his new messages.

_Enjoy your night!_ Udai had texted along with a peace sign. Akaashi had to hold in his groan. _If you end up taking the train back alone though I will feel really bad and will buy you lunch for a week and never ask for an extension again._

Biting his tongue, Akaashi wrote back. _Feel bad anyway_.

“Akaashi?”

Akaashi’s head snapped up, nearly colliding with Bokuto’s. He’d leaned in close, concern on his face.

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” Akaashi said quickly, taking a step back. “Something came up and my friend already left.” He glanced around one last time. “I’m actually heading to the train station now.”

Bokuto grinned. “Alright, I’ll walk you then!”

“You really don’t have to,” Akaashi said but didn’t argue further as Bokuto continued alongside him.

They walked in silence for a bit. The sidewalks were busy, but the worst of the crowd had already passed. That, or they were still back at the stadium. Akaashi didn’t mind the silence, not really. It was just on the edge of being bearable and unbearable. What was he supposed to say?

They didn’t have long. The station wasn’t that far away. Trying to fill the air with conversation—nearly three years’ worth of conversation—felt like a lost cause.

“So,” Bokuto started airily, causing Akaashi to cringe at the thought of small talk. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Lately,” Akaashi repeated. “You say that as if it’s only been a short while since we last saw each other.”

Bokuto stared at him with those big eyes again, eyebrows raised. “Hmm…so?”

“So,” Akaashi said slowly, studying him carefully before giving in. “I’m an editor now. I work at a manga company.”

“Ooh, wow, Akaashi! That sounds so cool!”

Akaashi grimaced a smile in return. “It’s not quite where I want to be, but it’s good experience for now. I get to kick our writers in the butt when they don’t meet deadlines.”

“Hah! I bet you’d be really good at that! You were always keeping us all in line back at Fukurodani.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Akaashi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “The rest of the team—”

“You were vice-captain,” Bokuto interrupted. He stared at Akaashi as if he were seeing trough him and Akaashi shivered. “And you were only a second year. Konoha and the others wouldn’t have let that slide if you didn’t deserve it. Plus, you had me as captain, and I was all over the place. I think that makes you pretty special.”

Akaashi pursed his lips and looked away. “You have to stop smiling at me like that, Bokuto-san.”

“Like what?”

Akaashi stole another look and that smile hadn’t faded. He sighed through his nose. “Like—I don’t know—” _Like no time has passed. The same way you smiled at me our last night in Okinawa._

“Well, too bad. I can’t.” Bokuto laughed. “I’m too happy you’re here!”

Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m also happy, Bokuto.”

They came to a stop outside the train station. Dread fell like a rock in his stomach. He’d been dreading running into Bokuto like this, but now he was dreading them parting ways again. He was too worried that, this time, it really would be for good.

“You’re heading to Tokyo, right?” Bokuto asked. “Me too! We can ride together!”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Akaashi said with a nod, mentally tiptoeing around the relief that flowed warmly through his veins.

It wasn’t that odd that Bokuto was going back to Tokyo. Similarly to the national team, the MSBY Black Jackals were based out of the city, but once they pulled in, once Akaashi switched trains, which one would Bokuto get one? They’d have to separate again, and Akaashi had seen that happen too many times before.

“Your glasses—” Bokuto had leaned into his space once they had found seats “—Your glasses look really good.”

Akaashi reached up to touch them self-consciously.

“The ones you wore in university were a bit bigger,” Bokuto continued, making circles with his thumb and forefinger on both hands and holding them up to his eyes. “But these make you look even smarter. They make you look all grown up.”

Akaashi pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Uh, thank you.”

“I mean, you look really good anyway, with or without glasses, you know?”

“Uh—” Akaashi let his hand drop from his face.

“Sorry!” Bokuto piped, voice loud enough that it earned a few glances from those around them. “Was that too much?” he asked, a bit quieter.

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Well, it’s true,” Bokuto said, his eyes stubbornly serious.

Akaashi hesitated. “Even after such a long time?”

Bokuto opened his mouth, looking every bit like he was going to be loud and disruptive again. Smiling, Akaashi held up a hand to stop him.

“This isn’t exactly the time or place for that conversation,” he said placatingly. It didn’t matter that their section of the train was mostly empty. Akaashi was just looking for a way out. “You should tell me how you’ve been instead. We have a lot to catch up on and two hours to start.”

But Bokuto didn’t allow the conversation to be laughed off. His eyebrows narrowed as he stared Akaashi down. “When will be the right time then? Are we going to see each other after today? Are we both going to make that promise and keep it?”

Akaashi was left gaping at him, mouth opening and closing, waiting for the right words. “I don’t know,” he finally got out, his voice catching.

“Because if I don’t tell you right now, then there might not be a reason for us to try later.”

“You’re just continuing where we left off three years ago,” Akaashi said weakly.

Bokuto shook his head roughly. “I’m _not_.” He grabbed Akaashi’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I’m serious, Akaashi. I’ve been working up the nerve to text you for months now. I mean—” he hung his head “—I kinda broke my phone last year and I lost your number, but my feelings have not changed since Okinawa. I know it’s been awhile, I know we haven’t stayed in constant contact, I _know_ it’s possible you’ve moved on by now, but I need you to know before we have to part ways. I am devoted to you, Akaashi. I’ve always been, and I’ve never stopped working to get to a place where I can properly be there for you.”

Akaashi had to bite his lip to keep it from quivering, but he knew he couldn’t hide the way his hand shook in Bokuto’s grip. He cleared his throat.

“I—” he cleared his throat again “—You leave such a big hole in your absence. I always forget, but then you leave and I have to get used to it again.”

Bokuto’s grip tightened to the point of hurting, but Akaashi didn’t mind. “I know, that’s why I was waiting until I was back in Japan with a good team—”

“That’s stupid.” Akaashi returned the tight grip. “You’ll never be on the same team forever. You’ll always be moving around.”

Bokuto wilted at his words.

“But I don’t care about that,” Akaashi pushed on. “All I care is that you keep coming back—” he gulped “—keep coming back to _me_. I’ve always been in Tokyo, but even if I weren’t, I’ll always be somewhere you can come back to.”

Bokuto blinked rapidly, now both of his hands had swallowed up Akaashi’s one. “I made a mistake, back in Okinawa,” he said. “I couldn’t find the right words back then, so I told myself they weren’t important. I thought showing you how I felt was enough, but then when I had to go away, I wasn’t sure what we were or what to try and be to you when we were so far apart.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Akaashi said, suddenly bashful. “We could’ve done better, but the best we could manage at the time wasn’t a mistake.”

“But that’s why now I can show you that I’ll be here for you. The Jackals are based in Tokyo, so I won’t be that far away,” he said, voice tumbling out quickly. “And I have the right words now, too.”

Akaashi smiled down at their hands. “And what are the right words?”

Bokuto grinned. “Well, there are a lot of ‘right words.’ I’ve been thinking about them all this time, but to start, I want to be your boyfriend,” he said. “You said a long time ago how hard promises can be to keep, and I said that as long as we tried, that’s good enough. That’s what I’d like. I’d like for us to try.”

Akaashi stared at him, trying to keep track of every word he said because he needed to convince himself that he was hearing correctly.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at how long this had all taken.

“I’d really like that, Bokuto.”

“I’d also like to kiss you again,” Bokuto said, his smile turning mischievous.

Akaashi’s face reddened immediately, causing him to use his free hand in an attempt to hide it. “Not on the train.”

And Bokuto laughed loudly in response. “Of course not!” he said. His entire body shook from the laughter. “I’m just saying!”

“How about you start by telling me about your game today.” Akaashi leaned closer, his elbow on the armrest. Their grip no longer cut off the circulation to their fingers.

“But you were there watching,” Bokuto teased.

“True, but I want to hear your version of it,” Akaashi said. “Like how we used to. Then, I want to hear about your time abroad, and then everything else you got up to the past three years.”

“Okay, then I want to hear about school and graduation and work and this friend I need to thank for getting you to come today.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes, but his smile grew. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll make sure you two meet,” he said. “But sure, we can get into all of that. It’s a two-hour trip. We have time.”

It was hard pulling away from their conversation at their stop in Tokyo. Bokuto had just covered getting lost in Spain, explaining how—despite how long he was overseas—he hadn’t picked up the slightest bit of English or any language.

Akaashi had to tug him to his feet. Otherwise, he might not have known to get off.

“I have to switch trains to Yoyogi,” Akaashi said as he led the way to right lane. “Where are you heading.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m going to Yoyogi, too.”

Akaashi looked over his shoulder at him. “Do you live around there?” he asked.

“Sure, um—” Bokuto grinned sheepishly “—somewhere around there.”

Akaashi stared at him for a moment longer but decided not to comment further. It had been a long day and he was tired enough to take Bokuto’s word for it. Mostly, he just wanted to go home and convince himself this day had really happened while he threw together some last-minute dinner.

They didn’t have to wait long for the train, and it was a brief ride to the Yoyogi station. The sun was starting to set once they stepped outside. It disappeared in-between the buildings, catching their eyes blindingly when they least expected it.

Akaashi came to a stop in front of his apartment building, realizing that Bokuto was still tagging along like a lost puppy. A rather buff puppy, with arms that strained his jacket sleeves and broader shoulders than Akaashi had ever seen on him, but the metaphor held up.

“Uhh—” Akaashi hesitated as he reached for his key “—do you want to come in?”

Bokuto nodded fervently, and with a smile and a shake of his head, Akaashi let him inside.

He’d gotten this apartment about a year ago, just after he’d started his job. It made the commute to work easier and it was a step up from his university apartment—albeit a tiny step up. At the time, he’d had to purchase better furniture, too.

And it was still pretty bare. The nicest feature was his sofa, bought new instead of secondhand or off the curb like his last. He had a desk in his room for work, but his papers rarely made it past the kitchen counter and table, where he ended up doing a lot of his weekend work while preparing and eating meals.

Other than that, it was small and a bit messy. Akaashi hadn’t expected to have company, so his stacks of work still littered the counters with the pens that had spilt out of his bag earlier in his hurry to pack for the game.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Bokuto said as he toed off his shoes and set his gym bag next to the door.

“I can put water on for tea,” Akaashi said, already walking through to the kitchen. “I don’t have much, but I can do something simple for dinner. Sunday’s are my shopping days.”

Bokuto lingered in the short hallway. “Oh, whatever’s fine.”

While Akaashi boiled water and went through his cupboards, Bokuto gradually started poking around. Out of the corner of his eye, Akaashi watched him pick through his papers. They were stacks of chapters. About a third were covered in his red edits. Bokuto flipped through them carefully, Akaashi observed, pinching the pages delicately and always making sure they were in the correct order.

Then, he was in the living room, going through the TV stand where Akaashi kept all of his old DVDs. He was there for a bit while Akaashi made rice. He figured he had some leftovers that would go together with it well enough. And, though he couldn’t see Bokuto, he could hear him opening the doors to the bedroom and bathroom and sticking his head inside. Akaashi smiled to himself as he cooked.

“Food’s ready,” Akaashi eventually said to Bokuto who was back at the counter going through a different pile of papers. These ones would be more interesting to him. They were full of Udai’s drafted drawings. “Bokuto,” Akaashi said when he didn’t get an immediate response.

Bokuto hummed and carefully stacked everything back together. Akaashi approached, leaning against the other side of the counter.

“Did you purposefully invite yourself over just so you could see my apartment?” Akaashi asked. Everything on the stove had lids. It would stay hot for a moment. “You could’ve just said so, you know.”

“That’s not it,” Bokuto said, raising his eyes to meet Akaashi’s. “I realized at the station that I didn’t want to say goodbye to you there again.”

“Oh.”

Bokuto twiddled his fingers together. “I was afraid it might be like the other times, even after everything we said,” he continued. “And I couldn’t stand not seeing you for another year.”

“That—” Akaashi’s mouth had gone dry “—that makes sense to me.”

Bokuto walked around the counter to stand in front of him. “And I was worried that I hadn’t said everything I wanted to say and I didn’t want our time to run out.”

Akaashi had to tilt his head up just slightly as he stepped closer. “It doesn’t have to run out anymore.”

“Sometimes it will,” Bokuto said, his face serious but closer to Akaashi’s face than it had been in years. “But like you said, I can keep coming back.”

“I did say that.”

Reaching up, Bokuto settled his hands heavily on Akaashi’s shoulders. “But tonight, I just wanted to stay. I didn’t want to worry about leaving. So, is that alright?” His hands traveled over Akaashi’s shoulders and over his neck, just fingertips brushing against skin until they cupped his face. “Is it alright that I stay here for tonight?”

Akaashi nodded against his hands. “I don’t want to say goodbye either.”

Bokuto leaned closer and Akaashi tilted his head, but Bokuto hesitated.

“There’s one other thing. It might be too soon right now, but it didn’t feel too soon when I first realized years and years ago, you know, when I was graduating and thinking about telling you how I feel.”

Akaashi hummed when Bokuto didn’t continue right away.

“I love you, Akaashi,” he said. “And that’s the only promise I know that doesn’t take any trying. It just is, and I love you.”

He didn’t give Akaashi a chance to respond before he was knocking their noses together and kissing him. His hands slid to the back of Akaashi’s head, running through the short hair above the nape of his neck. Akaashi’s hands fisted into the sides of his shirt for balance as Bokuto crashed into him. Even as Bokuto pulled lightly at his bottom lip, Akaashi fought against the smile overtaking him until he had to pull back.

“Maybe it is too soon,” he said, “but I love you, too. It’s an easy promise to make when all I want is to be by your side.”

Bokuto grinned to the point where they were clacking teeth together more than they were kissing. He tried to remedy that by wrapping his arms around Akaashi and spinning him around the small kitchen. Laughing, Akaashi buried his face into Bokuto’s neck, which smelled of stale sweat, soap he must’ve used from the locker room, and Bokuto, a scent that had always been there even after all this time.

Akaashi didn’t want to second-guess the moment’s happiness. He figured he’d be second-guessing it a lot in the coming days as he tried to accept this new reality.

Maybe it was the fact that no matter how long they’d been apart, he and Bokuto could come together as if no time had passed. Maybe the only damage time apart had done them was make it so blatantly obvious of the absence in their lives, because when it came time for the other to fill it, it was done so effortlessly, like a ship pulling into harbor. He might have to leave—he had to because his dreams were on other shores—but this was his home. A home that was warm and inviting, no matter how much time they spent away. And that was why it ended up being so simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to see this fic completed ^^ Especially this part, which I've been making headcanons for ever since the recent manga chapters.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this!
> 
> And thank you so much to those who have left comments and kudos. They are so super sweet and will never fail to make my day! <3
> 
> And I hope to be working on another bokuaka fic soon.
> 
> You can listen to the song that inspire this fic and all the chapter titles [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdQRtU5O_I).
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com)  
> [My Writing Blog](http://silentpopp.tumblr.com)


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